The Goddess and the Sun in Indian Myth
In analysing the parallels between myths glorifying the Indian Great
Goddess, Durgā, and those glorifying the Sun, Sūrya, found in the
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a, this book argues for an ideological ecosystem at
work in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a privileging worldly values, of which
Indian kings, the Goddess (Devī), the Sun (Sūrya), Manu and Mārkaṇḍeya
himself are paragons.
This book features a salient discovery in Sanskrit narrative text: just as
the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a houses the Devī Māhātmya glorifying the
supremacy of the Indian Great Goddess, Durgā, it also houses a Sūrya
Māhātmya, glorifying the supremacy of the Sun, Sūrya, in much the same
manner. This book argues that these māhātmyas were meaningfully and
purposefully positioned in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a, while previous
scholarship has considered this haphazard interpolation for sectarian aims.
The book demonstrates that deliberate compositional strategies make up the
Saura–Śākta symbiosis found in these mirrored māhātmyas. Moreover, the
author explores what he calls the “dharmic double helix” of Brahmanism,
most explicitly articulated by the structural opposition between prav
tti
(worldly) and niv
tti (other-worldly) dharmas.
As the first narrative study of the Sūrya Māhātmya, along with the first
study of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a (or any Purāa), as a narrative whole,
this book will be of interest to academics in the field of Religion, Hindu
Studies, South Asian Studies, Goddess Studies, Narrative Theory and
Comparative Mythology.
Raj Balkaran teaches at the School of Continuing Studies at the University
of Toronto, Canada. He is also the host of “New Books in Hindu Studies”, a
podcast channel on the New Books Network, and the author of The
Goddess and The King in Indian Myth (Routledge, 2019).
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The Goddess and the Sun in Indian Myth
Power, Preservation and Mirrored Māhātmyas in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Raj Balkaran
For more information about this series, please visit:
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The Goddess and the Sun in Indian
Myth
Power, Preservation and Mirrored
Māhātmyas in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Raj Balkaran
First published 2020
by Routledge
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© 2020 Raj Balkaran
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accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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Typeset in Times New Roman
by Wearset Ltd, Boldon, Tyne and Wear
For Satya, for lighting up my life
tat savitur vareya
bhargo devasya dhīmahi
dhiyo yo na prachodayāt
We meditate on the supreme splendour
of that divinely enlivening Sun;
May he illumine our minds.
g Veda, 3.62.10
1
2
3
4
Contents
List of illustrations
Foreword
GREG BAILEY
Acknowledgements
Introduction: the turning tide of scholarship
Synchronic strategy: transcending diachronic dissection
Mirrored māhātmyas: Saura–Śākta symbiosis in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Purā
a
The story of Sajñā: Mother of Manu, threshold of tradition
Mapping Mārkaṇḍeya: Synchronic surveillance of The Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Purā
a
Conclusion: paragons of preservation – Goddess, Sun, King
Appendix: the Sun myths of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a (Sanskrit text)
Bibliography
Index
2.1
1.1
1.2
2.1
2.2
2.3
2.4
2.5
4.1
4.2
4.3
4.4
4.5
4.6
4.7
Illustrations
Figure
The Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a solar family tree
Tables
Sections of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Historical Strata of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Parallels between Devī and Sūrya Māhātmyas
The structure of the Sūrya Māhātmya
The Manu-intervals (manvantaras) of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
The royal dynasties (va
śānucarita) of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Sūrya Māhātmya episode chart
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a Exposition Guide
Expositors of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Birds in the intermediary sections of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Birds throughout the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Birds in the final section of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Birds in Section I of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Backstory of the Birds
Foreword
Greg Bailey
Raj Balkaran has already established himself as one of the foremost
scholars of the Purāas with his work on the Devī Māhātmya. The
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a, in which this text occurs, also contains another set of
chapters, which Balkaran has rightly considered to be a Sūrya Māhātmya or
“text of glorification to the Sun god”, a text which has scarcely been
mentioned by earlier scholars. It is to this text that the present volume
directs its attention, and in exploring this māhātmya, he also shows how
thematically interconnected it is with the Devī Māhātmya, if not with the
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a as a whole.
He contextualizes the Sūrya Māhātmya within the broad context of sun
worship beginning from the
g Veda and traces the few hymns to the Sun
found in the third book of the Mahābhārata and in certain manuscripts of
the Yuddhakha
ṇḍ
a of the Rāmāya
a. In Chapter 3, he also gives a new
interpretation of the well-known myth of Sūrya–Sajñā–Chāyā, and relates
this directly to the main theme of the Devī Māhātmya where “Both
mythologies bespeak powerful feminine divinities whose efforts restore
order in the face of peril and both bespeak the danger which results when
fiery figures, though required to preserve our world, exceed safe bounds”
(XXX [116]). In doing so, he presents valid criticisms of Donigers
structuralist interpretation of the myth emphasizing a contrast between
good and bad mothers – where versions of the myth coming from texts over
one and a half millennia are afforded equal validity. Rather, Balkaran
interprets this myth, with its lengthy antiquity, in terms of the principle
themes of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a, which inform the meaning of this myth
in that text.
Above all, the incorporation of the mythology of the Sun in the
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a contributes to the theme of the preservation of the
ordered world as is also so strongly reflected in the avatāric function of the
Devī Māhātmya, the myths where kings play exemplary roles and the
narratives of the manvantaras, the latter very much tied into the Devī
Māhātmya. And this, in turn, leads into his ongoing discussion throughout
the book of prav
tti and niv
tti as contrastive dharmas providing a
confirmatory interpretative frame to the more explicit themes found in each
of the myths.
Above all, prav
tti, with its emphasis on affirmation of the world of
society, ritual and kingship, aligns centrally with the principle emphases of
both māhātmyas found in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a. Prav
tti and niv
tti are
already treated in a more formal sense in Chapters 24–42 of this Purāa,
but, as the present book demonstrates so admirably, their propositional and
contrastive aspects are fully developed in the case studies such as the
māhātmyas and the other parts of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a dealing with the
pañcalak
a
a. This is not just the usual conflicting behaviour between
irascible ascetics and non-ascetics, especially nymphs, but instances of
royal figures having to come to terms with the niv
tti attitude of detachment
that is not consistent with the preservation of an ongoing society. In the
final analysis, he offers the insightful opinion that: “The MkP might
therefore be said to represent a means to pacify the extent to which pravtti
dharma attains an accursed hue, viewed through the lofty lens of nivttic
ideology” (p. 167).
If this treatment of some of the principal themes of the two māhātmyas
and the other parts of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a were all this book
contained, it would be enough in itself. Yet, it goes further than this in
offering us new insights into how to read the purāa genre as a whole. As
in his earlier work on the Devī Māhātmya, Balkaran urges Purāic scholars
to go beyond the very strong historicism which has dominated this field
since Wilson’s translation of the Vi
ṣṇ
u Purā
a was published in 1840. This
historicism has tended to see individual Purāic narratives as interpolation
laid upon interpolation, with some larger guidance provided by the
pañcalak
a
a theory. It refuses to countenance the possibility of a given
Purāa being read in its own terms, especially with the guidance given by
frame narratives, the interaction between reciters and interlocutors and the
intertextual connections the interlocutors bring with them, especially in
relation to the Mahābhārata. In this book, four types of frames are
developed in Chapter 1, frames reinforcing the synchronic reading of the
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a, not just of the two māhātmyas the author offers to
the reader. What he suggests provides very useful methodological signposts
for the readers of any Purāa.
In short, this book offers valuable exposition of the Sūrya Māhātmya,
shows its continuities with the Devī Māhātmya, demonstrates the
importance of prav
tti and niv
tti as hermeneutical devices for reading the
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a, and offers a long overdue new approach for reading
the Purāas.
Acknowledgements
I’m very grateful to the two main ladies in my life,
Amrita and Satya, for their unwavering love and support.
I am very grateful also to Noah, the loveliest of sons,
from whom I’ve learned a great many things.
I feel beyond blessed to have received the mentorship and care of Krishan
Mantri, without whom I could not begin to be the man I am today.
I deeply appreciate Joyce Rollick,
for her wisdom, skill and friendship.
A special thanks also goes to Amanda Iliadis
for her excellent research efforts towards this work.
I would like to express my gratitude to the
Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada
whose generous support enabled me to lay the foundation for both
The Goddess and the King and The Goddess and The Sun.
I am also thankful to the Routledge team,
who have been the gold standard of professionalism
every step of the way.
Introduction
The turning tide of scholarship
The Goddess and the Sun in Indian Myth is a natural progression, and direct
evolute, of my previous contribution to the Routledge Hindu Studies series:
The Goddess and the King in Indian Myth. To say that these works are
companions would be an overstatement; yet, while The Goddess and the
Sun is ultimately a stand-alone work, it stands squarely on the shoulders of
The Goddess and the King. This current work is the germination of a seed
planted in the closing paragraphs of The Goddess and The King, as follows:
That the work of the making of the Manu equally entails the theme of
preservation as with the work of our grand Goddess, it is perhaps not
surprising that the sovereign of the universe would appoint the lord of
an age in the form of the Manu Sāvari The Manu Sāvari, along
with the current Manu Vaivasvata, are offspring of the Sun, which the
DM reminds us of in its opening lines. The themes of sovereignty and
preservation are not only equally implicated in the myths of the Sun
occurring in the MkP, these myths are concentrated in a tripartite
narrative whose structure parallels that of the DM, which I have
tentatively dubbed the Sūrya Māhātmya.
(Balkaran 2019, 152–3)
This book explores the manner in which the structure and content of the
Sūrya Māhātmya mirrors that of the Devī Māhātmya (the subject of The
Goddess and The King), and, ultimately argues for an ideological ecosystem
at work in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a privileging prav
tti (over niv
tti)
dharma and the cosmic function of preservation, of which Indian kings, the
Goddess (Devī), the Sun (Sūrya), Manu and Mārkaṇḍeya himself are
paragons.
The Goddess and the King was spawned by asking “why are the exploits
of the Goddess comprising the Devī Māhātmya (DM) framed by an
encounter between an exiled king and a forest-dwelling sage?” Upon the
completion of that work, I have since embarked on an enframement
odyssey, asking after why the frame of the DM was framed by the
mythology of the Sun, and indeed why DM and Sūrya Māhātmya (SM) find
themselves in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a (MkP) at all. With respect to the
research question spawning The Goddess and The King, I argued that text
very consciously encodes what I call the dharmic double helix
Brahmanism’s paradoxical allegiance to both world-affirming prav
ttic and
world-denying niv
ttic religious impulses while emphatically privileging
the sanguinary strand of that ideological double helix, celebrating the office
of Goddess and Indian king in the name of preservation. The Goddess and
the Sun charts the extent to which the saura authors take their lead from
their Śākta counterparts, foregrounding the prav
ttic work of kings in their
homage to the Sun.
Beyond featuring the discovery of the SM, and the manner in which the
SM is modelled after the DM, The Goddess and The Sun demonstrates that
the prav
ttic saura–śākta symbiosis interlacing these two māhātmyas of the
MkP contribute to, and draw from, an ideological ecosystem that
emphasizes the cosmogonic function of preservation. This emphasis is
explicitly articulated in the ideology of prav
tti religion, honouring royal
power and the penchant of kings to preserve social and moral orders. The
royal work of prav
tti wielding power for the preservation of moral and
social order is embraced by the Goddess, Manus (whose discourses frame
her glories), the Sun, the lineage of kings (whose discourse cradles his
glories), and is represented by Mārkaṇḍeya himself, the sole being
preserved across cosmic dissolution.
While the trends advancing our current epoch of scholarship will
necessarily be clearly discerned only from some future time perhaps
decades from now, empowered by the acumen of hindsight we can
nevertheless discern a very important shift afoot with respect to the
scholarly study of Indian myth. While the World Sanskrit Conference has
been meeting triennially since its inception in 1972, 2015 marked the first
year when Purāic Studies was granted its own section (previously, it was
lumped in with papers on the Sanskrit epics). As expressed in the Preface to
the Purāa proceedings of the following World Sanskrit Conference at
2018:
The purāas themselves betray an acute awareness of their own
dynamism, i.e., their penchant to respond to religious change across
time. Apropos of their object study, the theoretical and methodological
approaches to this very important genre showcased in this volume
bespeak an evolution in Indological scholarship. It seems we have
officially moved away from the stringent historicism that has
dominated the field thus far. This volume commemorates this
important rite of passage: it is a testament of the disintegration of that
dominion in favour of receiving the purāas in a manner befitting their
position as the dynamic life-blood of Indian tradition itself.
(Balkaran and Taylor 2019, vi)
The Goddess and The Sun serves to advance this trend of transcending the
methodological pitfalls of our predecessors in encountering Indian myth. I
take the Sanskrit texts I study herein at face value, attentive to the presence
of highly conscious compositional strategies at play by the time of their
final redaction. Diachronically composed no doubt, we can nevertheless
retrieve great insight in accepting that the contents of these texts belong
there, and with good reason. I privilege the thematic trends one discerns in
viewing the MkP as a whole over the temporal trends one discerns while
slicing and dicing it for historicist or philological aims.
0.1 Chapter outline
0.1.1 Synchronic strategy: transcending diachronic dissection
This chapter surveys scholarship on the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a, along with
Sanskrit sources on Sūrya including the Mahābhārata, Rāmāya
a, the
Purāas and the Sāmba Upa-Purā
a. It goes on to articulate a synchronic
strategy for studying the Sansk.
0.1.2 Mirrored māhātmyas: Saura–Śākta supremacy in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Purā
a
This chapter examines myths of Sūrya (the Sun) in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Purā
a, including Sūrya’s family (Sajñā, Chāyā, Yama, Manu, Śani and
Tapatī), and his relationship to the Vedic gods Brahmā, Aditi and
Viśvakarman. It argues for regarding these myths as māhātmya literature,
since they parallel the much more famous Devī Māhātmya which glorifies
the Hindu Great Goddess, Durgā. This chapter demonstrates a Saura–Śākta
sectarian symbiosis at play in the compositional strategies producing these
Sanskrit texts. It also discusses the way in which these texts both privilege
the duty of the Indian king, pravtti dharma, and the cosmic function of
preservation.
0.1.3 The story of Sa
jñā: mother of Manu, threshold of tradition
This chapter analyses the very important Vedic myth of the goddess
Sajñā. She is the wife of Sūrya (the Sun), and the mother of Manu. Her
story is heavily implicated in the Devī Māhātmya, which glorifies the Hindu
Great Goddess, Durgā. This chapter first debunks Wendy Donigers
problematic interpretations of this myth cycle, then goes on to deepen
discussion of the Saura–Śākta sectarian symbiosis at play in the
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a. This chapter then uses Indian astrological material
(Jyotia) to provide insight into the connection between Vedic mythology
and the ritual timing of the autumnal Navarātrī Goddess festival (Durgā
Pūjā).
0.1.4 Mapping Mārka
ṇḍ
eya: synchronic surveillance of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Purā
a
This chapter probes the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
as rich frame to shed light on
thematic currents spanning the text. It shows why the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
is fertile ideological soil for both the Sūrya Māhātmya (glorifying the Sun),
and the Devī Māhātmya (glorifying Devī, the Hindu Goddess). It ultimately
suggests an ideological ecosystem at work in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a,
predicated on pravtti dharma and the cosmogonic imperative of
preservation as exemplified in the work of Indian kings, the Goddess
(Devī), the Sun (Sūrya), and Mārkaṇḍeya himself. It also touches on
important intertextuality between the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a and the
Mahābhārata.
0.1.5 Conclusion: paragons of preservation
This chapter discusses the Sun as Preserver in other Sanskrit narratives,
such as the Rāmāya
a, the Mahābhārata, and his relationship with epic and
Purāic characters such as Yudhiṣṭhira, Kara, Yama and Rāma. It
discusses the extent to which Indian kings, the Goddess (Devī), the Sun
(Sūrya), Manu and Mārkaṇḍeya himself are paragons of the cosmic
function of preservation befitting the pravtti dharma ecosystem
constituting the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a.
1 Synchronic strategy
Transcending diachronic dissection
In researching the glories of the Goddess housed in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Purā
a (MkP), I couldn’t help but notice the parallel laudation of the Sun,
also housed in the MkP. I used the word ‘houses’ purposefully: these
laudations are ‘at home’ there. These ‘interpolations’ are more akin to
renovations than intrusions. In making sense of why those glories of the
Goddess should be mouthed by Mārkaṇḍeya (the narrator of the
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a), I inadvertently ended making sense of why the
glories of the Sun are also housed here. The MkP is marked by an ethos of
preservation, represented by Mārkaṇḍeya’s own biography, and
embellished in the tales of the Goddess and the Sun therein. It is the
ideology of kings.
The life sap of the Purāa is an ideological ecosystem predicated on the
privileging of the function of preservation, explicitly articulated in prav
tti
dharma. As summarized in The Goddess and The King:
Sanskrit narrative literature thus overwhelmingly celebrates these two
divergent figures: the ascetic and the king. The ancient Indian king
upholds society (stationed at its very centre), while the ancient Indian
ascetic shuns society (poised at its periphery). As such, the former is a
paragon of worldly pursuits, while the latter serves as the epitome of
all things other-worldly. The dichotomy between the ideologies of
kingship and asceticism might be understood as distinct expressions of
power: the king wields outer power, which he employs to control
others and regulates the mundane world, while the ascetic commands
inner power, which he hones through ardent control of self and
rejection of the world. Furthermore, ahi
(non-violence) is the
imperative of the ascetic, while kings are required to implement force
in protection of subject and state. Yet each of these figures ascetic
and king alike is venerated as a virtuoso of his respective realm.
Their interaction comprises a literary trope that encapsulates a lasting
ideological tension within the Hindu world: the tension between the
divergent duties of (world-denying) renouncers and (world-affirming)
householders, synthesized as prav
tti and niv
tti dharmas by the time
of the MBh.
(Balkaran 2019, 28)
While works such as the Sūrya Māhātmya (SM) and Devī Māhātmya (DM)
symbolically encode the prav
ttiniv
tti complex most palpably in the
exchanges of forest hermits and exiled kings the MkP does better than
that: it is explicit in its discussion of these ideologies (MkP 24–42). Greg
Bailey observes that while the Mahābhārata (MBh) is traditionally where
we look to see this formulation, the presentation there is not as systematic
as what we see in the MkP, and “as such these chapters constitute one of the
few extended self-conscious treatments of the subject” (Bailey 2005, 19).
These ideologies “might have been contrastive, not just complementary,
even though there is the possibility they could have been both depending on
which text one reads” (Bailey 2005, 17). Having said that, prav
tti would
most certainly have been the religion of the masses, and, intriguingly, the
apex of those masses and paragon of pravtti the Indian king would
have been presentative of necessarily encapsulating both strands, while of
course privileging the world-facing prav
tti. It is the king who protects the
ascetics, and engages in ascetic means to derive the necessary blessings to
protect the world. As Bailey notes:
chapter 24 contains a whole set of rules prescriptive of kings and the
accompanying restraints appropriate for a king who must of necessity
hold within himself both pravtti and nivtti values. Whilst the former
are dominant, the latter are reflected in 25,11–15; 29, verses which
stress how much the king must conquer his emotions as a prelude to
impartiality.
(Bailey 2005, 4)
This book argues that while explicit only in this section, this ideological
bent is implicit throughout the MkP, foundational to an ecosystem marked
by this very same tension, always tilted towards prav
tti as evidences in the
glorifications of Goddess and Sun, and the biography of Mārkaṇḍeya
himself.
The Goddess and the King was spawned by asking ‘why are the exploits
of the Goddess comprising the Devī Māhātmya framed by an encounter
between an exiled king and a forest-dwelling sage?’ Crucial to my findings
is that encounters between an exiled king and a forest-dwelling sage serve
as a narrative motif encapsulating opposing ideals. I have argued that text
very consciously encodes what I call the dharmic double helix (Balkaran
2019, 35–53) Brahmanism’s paradoxical allegiance to both world-
affirming prav
ttic and world-denying niv
ttic religious impulses while
emphatically privileging the sanguinary strand of that ideological double
helix, celebrating the office of Goddess and Indian king in the name of
preservation (Balkaran 2019, 60–87). The Goddess and the Sun charts the
extent to which the Saura authors take their lead from their Śākta
counterparts, foregrounding the prav
ttic work of kings in their homage to
the Sun. Moreover, it argues that these two māhātmyas interface with an
existing, complementary, emphasis on prav
ttic preservation innate to the
MkP.
I have in effect discovered that there exists two māhātmyas in the
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a: in addition to the much more famous glorification of
the Goddess (the Devī Māhātmya), there exists a mirrored māhātmya
glorifying the Sun (the Sūrya Māhātmya). While the first telling of the myth
of the Sun and his family occur as a stand-alone segment (MkP 77–78), the
second telling of the sequence of events between the Sun and Sajñā (MkP
106–108) occurs as part of a conglomeration of tales embellishing the
virtues of the Sun, casting him as a supreme primordial power even above
the gods themselves. Remarkably, the MkP dedicates a nine-chapter
episodic trilogy to lauding the majesty of the Sun (see Pargiter 1904, 553–
87, Chapters 102–108), which I refer to herein as the Sūrya Māhātmya
(SM).
To my knowledge, nothing has been written on this compilation of solar
myths in the MkP, save for general remarks in passing, which refer to
sectarian materials lauding about the Sun in the MkP. For example, there is
no mention of a Sūrya Māhātmya in Jan Gonda’s discourse on māhātmyas
in his Sanskrit Medieval Literature section of his edited series A History of
Indian Literature. With respect to works which praise the Sun, Gonda
makes mention only of Mayūra’s early seventh-century Sūrya-Śataka (see
Gonda 1977, 251, which, interestingly enough, was contemporary with
a’s Caṇḍī-Śataka, see Gonda 1977, 250), along with a praise of the Sun
“attributed to a certain Sāmba” from mid-eighth century onwards (see
Gonda 1977, 252). He furthermore refers to a Sūrya Gītā in one lone
sentence as follows: “The Surya-Gita must belong to the comparatively late
works of this genre because it has undergone the influence of Rāmānuja’s
Viśiṣṭādvaita philosophy” (Gonda 1977, 276). Gonda notes that while
māhātmya literature often centres on places of pilgrimage (i.e. tīrtha), it can
of course centre on “the figure of a god and the spread of his cult rather
than the sanctity of a particular temple city or place of pilgrimage. A well-
known instance is the Devī-Māhātmya” (Gonda 1977, 281). Therefore,
since this conglomeration of myths details various exploits of the Sun, it is
too elaborate to be called a stotra or stava (and indeed includes within it
four such stotras), and lacks the requisite structure to be termed a gītā
(indeed, there is an existing Sūrya Gītā), I deem māhātmya as the most apt
appellation for the scope of these acts glorifying the Sun.
1.1 Diachronic dissection of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
It is no wonder the SM has henceforth not been named as such: scholars of
the Purāas have been too busy slicing and dicing these texts for historicist
and philological reasons as if each patch were more important than the
quilt they collectively knit. While Eden Pargiter translated the entire Purāa
into English in 1904, he was heavily under the sway of the he legacy of
Purāic scholarship inaugurated by H.H. Wilson, one which condemned the
Purāas as sectarian Brahmanical corruptions of some long-lost pristine
non-sectarian texts (Balkaran 2019, 7–13). This very bias occluded
Pargiters ability to register the glaring similarities in the SM and DM,
despite the fact that the DM emphatically declares at its very outset (and
again at its conclusion, just so there is no ambiguity), that it shall elucidate
the rise to power (as Manu) of the son of the Sun. Likewise this bias
remained trenchant throughout the generations of Pargiters own scholarly
heirs; in the subsequent scholarly generation, Winternitz (1972), too, notes
the prevalence of solar mythology in the MkP (Winternitz 1972a, 560), yet
makes no connection between the presence of that mythology and the DM
or the MkP at large. Two scholarly generations past Pargiters publication,
even once the DM began receiving detailed scholarly attention in its own
right, Agrawala (1963) condemns the connection between the DM and the
manvantara discourse of the MkP as “obviously very flimsy” (Agrawala
1963, 832), which is again echoed verbatim twenty years later (1986) by
Ludo Rocher (Rocher 1986, 195). As late as 1992, Nileshvari Desai
undertakes a focused study on the MkP titled “Ancient Indian Society,
Religion, and Mythology as Depicted in the Mārkaṇḍeya Purāa” (Desai
1968) in which he notes that “in the MKP much material on religion is
available, particularly regarding the Devī, Dattātreya and Sun” (Desai 1968,
109). Yet, he too, preoccupied with mining the Purāa for ancient historical
and cultural data, fails to survey the narrative fabric of the text as a whole,
and thus fails to register the glaring interrelations between the mythologies
of the Goddess and of the Sun, both in content, in form and in function,
with respect the MV section of the MkP. Wendy Doniger, too, in her
penetrating survey of Indian myths, including the myths of the MkP,
partakes in this legacy of fragmentation, recapitulating its biases even into
2014 (Doniger 2014). This pervasive legacy must be addressed so as to
embolden subsequent generations of scholars to embrace as purposeful the
Table 1.1
seeming madness of cross-generational Purāic assemblage. Amid the
dizzying frame narratives and only seemingly intrusive interpolations lay
profoundly insightful thematic continuities, which account for which tales
wind up within which compilations, precisely clinched within which
extrinsic narrative frames.
Banerjea, who first edited the work and upon whose edition English
translation of the MkP Dutt (1896) and Pargiter (1904) relied, as early as
1855 classified the content of the MkP into five sections, as per Table 1.1:
In the words of Eden Pargiter:
The Purāa is clearly divisible (as Dr. Banerjea noticed) into five
distinct parts, namely: 1. Cantos 1–9, in which Jaimini is referred by
Mārkaṇḍeya to the wise Birds, and they directly explain to him the
four questions that perplexed him and some connected matters. 2.
Cantos 10–44, where, though Jaimini propounds further questions to
the Birds and they nominally expound them, yet the real speakers are
Sumati, nicknamed Jaa, and his father. 3. Cantos 45–81: here, though
Jaimini and the Birds are the nominal speakers, yet the real speakers
are Mārkaṇḍeya and his disciple Krauṣṭuki. 4. Cantos 82–92, the
Devi-mahatmya, a pure interpolation, in which the real speaker is a ṛṣi
named Medhas, and which is only repeated by Mārkaṇḍeya. 5. Cantos
93–136, where Mārkaṇḍeya and Krauṣṭuki carry on their discourse
from Canto 81. The 137th canto concludes the work; it is a necessary
corollary to the first part.
(Pargiter 1904, iv)
Sections of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Sections Cantos Expositor Interlocutor
I 1–9; 137 The Birds Jaimini
II 10–44 Sumati-JaaFather
III 45–81 Mārkaṇḍeya Krauṣṭuki
IV 82–92 Medhas Suratha
V 93–136 Mārkaṇḍeya Krauṣṭuki
This fivefold division of the Purāa was implicated to bolster claims
regarding the historical development of the text; for example, it is based on
this dissection that Pargiter regards the DM section as a “pure interpolation”
(Pargiter 1904, iv). The scholarly trajectory established by this diachronic
a.d
thrust has proven most influential over the decades. Winternitz, for
example, follows Pargiter in taking as the oldest the parts of the Purāa
where Mārkaṇḍeya is the narrator proper (instructing his pupil Krauṣṭuki),
that is, 45–81 and 93–136 (Winternitz 1972a, 559, n. 2). He does so on the
basis that neither Viṣṇu nor Śiva take centre stage in these sections but
rather, the Vedic gods Agni and Sūrya are glorified therein, and the text also
includes a number of myths of the sun god. He, of course, fails to register
that the persona of the Sun crafted in the MkP, as the primal cause of
creation and face of immortality, is a vastly different entity from the figure
we see in Vedic myths, where the Sun is the archetypal mortal bar none,
enduring birth and death on a daily basis, marked by dawn and twilight.
Winternitz dates these presumably most ancient sections (again following
Pargiter) to 300 or earlier. The conclusions about the dating of all five strata
of the text are reinforced by the work of R.C. Hazra who writes that “the
above conclusion about the date of the chapters under discussion agrees
remarkably with the view of Pargiter” (Hazra 1975, 13). He therefore cites
Pargiter as follows:
The Devī-māhātmya, the latest part, was certainly complete in the 9th
century and very probably in the 5th or 6th century . The third and fifth
parts (i.e. chaps. 45–81 and 93–136 respectively), which constituted
the original Purāa, were very probably in existence in the third
century, and perhaps even earlier; and the first and second parts (i.e.,
chaps. 1–9 and 10–44 respectively) were composed between those two
periods.
(Hazra 1975, 13) Originally quoted in (Pargiter 1904, xx)
Table 1.2 provides a snapshot of the tripartite diachronic scheme laid out by
Pargiter and subsequently reinforced by the work of Winternitz and Hazra:
Despite the obvious value of the legacy bequeathed by Pargiter to
scholars such as Winternitz and Hazra, this trajectory has precluded
examining the work on its own terms, as a synchronic whole; in pursuit of
historical data, much has been missed regarding the craftsmanship at work
to render the text in its current form. Even if one were to dismiss the
‘persona’ of the text as in some way ‘false’, is an understanding of the
textual mechanics and religious function of the persona not of scholarly
value?
Table 1.2 Historical Strata of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
In his volume on the history of Hindu Indian literature, Winternitz
asserts that “neither Purāas nor the Tantras make for enjoyable reading”
(Winternitz 1972b, 606), a stance which he bolsters on the following basis:
They are work of inferior writers, and are often written in barbarous
and ungrammatical Sanskrit. On the other hand neither the literary
historian nor the student of religion can afford to pass them by in
silence; for during centuries and even at the present time these writings
are the spiritual food of millions of Indians.
(Winternitz 1972b, 606)
Winternitz exhibits a palpable ambivalence; his elitist sensibilities prevent
him from embracing the Purāas as respectable literature and yet his
scholarly sensibilities prevent him from dismissing them as impertinent.
Even in the face of prejudice whereby they are deemed barbarous, the
Purāas nonetheless succeed in conveying their vitality and influence in the
religious lives of countless millions. Let us note that Winternitz regards
them as unenjoyable because he considers them inferior in style. Yet, it
becomes clear from subsequent comments that he certainly is not unmoved
by their content. He remarks, for example, of the MkP that it is one of the
most important and most interesting, “probably one of the oldest works of
the whole Purāa literature,” but proceeds to qualify this with, “yet even
this Purāa is no unified work, but consists of parts which vary in value and
probably belong to different periods” (Winternitz 1972a, 559). Value, for
Winternitz, was squarely a function of antiquity, a notion propelled by the
perception that absence of unification within the work was to be attributed
to corruption of the work by means of interpolation. This attitude has been
largely implicated in the scholarly trend to identify and emphasize various
chronological strata within the MkP.
In spite of his bent towards denigrating Purāa, Winternitz was
nevertheless quite taken with the story of Vipaścit, despite its relative youth
compared to the most ancient and therefore, in his view, most valuable
strata of the MkP. The touching episode details Vipaścit’s devotion and self-
sacrifice through which the inhabitants of hell were released and sent to
heaven. While Winternitz justifies his affection for the episode on the basis
of its literary style in addition to its content, one might speculate that the
redemptive elements of this episode would certainly not be lost on a
Christian audience. He, therefore, refers to this episode as “one of the gems
of Indian legend poetry” (Winternitz 1972a, 562) and goes so far as to
reproduce an English synopsis of the tale so as to share it with his readers
(Winternitz 1972a, 562–4).
Upon conclusion of his rendition of the Vipaścit episode, he comments
that “in language and style this splendid dialogue reminds one very much of
the Sāvitrī poem of the Mahābhārata (Winternitz 1972a, 564). While
Winternitz separately notes that it is Mārkaṇḍeya who comforts
Yudhiṣṭhira in the MBh, with regard to Draupadi’s fate, by telling him the
story of Sāvitrī or Pativratāmāhātmya “the song in praise of the faithful
wife” (Winternitz 1972a, 397, n. 4), he is unable to make the connection
between the story of Sāvitrī and the story of Vipaścit, both being placed in
the mouth of Mārkaṇḍeya, for such a connection would necessarily be
coincidental, void of intentionality. It appears beyond the intellectual vista
of early scholars such as Winternitz that the mechanics of “interpolations”
could be anything but haphazard in nature or else he would surely have
been able to perceive that, given the affinity between the story of Sāvitrī
and the story of Vipaścit, the assemblers of the latter would have
intentionally accorded it to the expositor of the former. Despite his esteem
for the Vipaścit episode, he quickly adds that “but just as in the great epic
the most absurd productions of the priestly literature stand by the side of the
most beautiful poems, as also in our Purāa” (Winternitz 1972a, 564). One
gets the sense that for Winternitz, imbibing from the wellspring of Purāic
lore simultaneously posed both as an enjoyable indulgence and a hazardous
habit direly in need of remedy. There is a pronounced ambivalence at play
during the first century of Western Purāic scholarship as expressed by the
sentiments of Winternitz, inherited by Pargiter, and inherited by Wilson
before him. The stringency of this ambivalence, commingling both
reverence and distaste for Purāic literature, commands great intrigue: it
suggests that the battles and bents of men such as these cannot but comprise
a Purāa of its own, replete with triumphs and failings, and demons in need
of annihilation.1
Eden Pargiter takes his cue from Wilson regarding the general character
of the MkP. He, therefore, quotes Wilson’s words in the introduction to his
translation of the MkP as follows:
This Purāa has a character different from that of all the others. It has
nothing of a sectarial spirit, little of a religious tone; rarely inserting
prayers and invocations to any deity; and such as are inserted are brief
and moderate. It deals little in precepts, ceremonial or moral. Its
leading feature is narrative; and it presents an uninterrupted succession
of legends, most of which when ancient are embellished with new
circumstances, and when new partake so far of the spirit of the old, that
they are disinterested creations of the imagination, having no particular
motive, being designed to recommend no special doctrine or
observance. Whether they are derived from any other source, or
whether they are original inventions, it is not possible to ascertain.
They are most probably, for the greater part at least, original; and the
whole has been narrated in the compilers own manner; a manner
superior to that of the Purāa in general, with exception of the
Bhāgavata.
(Pargiter 1904, iii)
Pargiter and Wilson privilege the MkP not only because of the calibre of its
narration (which in their view is second only to the Bhāgavata Purā
a), but
on the basis of its scant “insertion” of prayers and invocations to specific
deities. It is most peculiar that they perceive a distinction between these
“religious” creations and the “leading feature” of the Purāa: narrative.
First, one wonders how these scholars dissect the sectarian sections
(presumably those lauding the Sun and the Devī) from the narrative of the
MkP when these sections themselves exist in the form of narrative; they are
not comprising merely hymns or incantations but rather, they narrate entire
episodes. Second, one wonders how “disinterested” the non-sectarian
“creations of the imagination” in the MkP really are. As Hazra summarizes,
although the MkP
is generally true to the old definition of the Purāa of five
characteristics, it contains a few chapters on topics dealing with hells
(Naraka), chap. 15 with the results of actions done (Karma-vipāka),
chaps. 28–29 with the duties of the castes and Āśramas, chaps. 30–33
with funeral sacrifices, chap. 34 with customs in general (Ācāra), and
chap. 35 with eatables and non-eatables.
(Hazra 1975, 8–9)
Hence, the MkP is “one of the oldest and most important of the extant
Purāas” (Hazra 1975, 8), not because of the absence of religious
ideologies, but because, in part, of its vibrant encapsulation thereof (Desai
1968). Given the primacy of narrative in the encapsulation and
dissemination of religious ideologies, one is hard pressed to maintain the
position that the “non-sectarian” fabric of the Purāa “deals little in
precepts, ceremonial or moral” (Pargiter 1904, iii), for even when the
ideologies do not take centre stage as with the sections Hazra points out to
us, they are assumed to be within the world of the text and those
assumptions are inevitably transmitted to its hearers.
While Pargiter endorses Wilson’s summation of the overall quality of the
MkP in writing that “the general character of this Purāa has been well
summed up by Prof. Wilson in his preface to his Translation of the Vi
ṣṇ
u
Purā
a(Pargiter 1904, iii), he is sure to clarify that Wilson’s description
“hardly applies to the Devī-māhātmya (Pargiter 1904, iii). Pargiter is
referring to the overall absence of sectarian spirit for which Wilson lauds
the work. Despite the fact that the DM is by far the most popular and most
practised (ritually and devotionally) tributary of the MkP, it is viewed as the
assemblage’s most sectarian and most recent appendage, both attributes
which oppose the grain of Wilson’s pronouncement on the MkP as “one of
the oldest and most important of the extant Purāas” (Hazra 1975, 8).
Pargiter writes:
The Devī-māhātmya stands entirely by itself as a later interpolation. It
is a poem complete in itself. Its subject and the character attributed to
the goddess show that it is the product of a later age which developed
and took pleasure in the sanguinary features of popular religion. The
praise of the goddess Mahā-māyā in Canto 81 is in the ordinary style.
Her special glorification begins in Canto 82, and is elaborated with the
most extravagant laudation and the most miraculous imagination.
Some of the hymns breathe deep religious feeling, express enthusiastic
adoration, and evince fervent spiritual meditation. On the other hand,
the descriptions of the battles abound with wild and repulsive
incidents, and revel in gross and amazing fancies. The Devī-māhātmya
is a compound of the most opposite characters. The religious out-
pourings are at times pure and elevated: the material descriptions are
absurd and debased.
(Pargiter 1904, vi–vii)
We perceive in Pargiter the very same stark ambivalence inherited by
Winternitz, as detailed above. The DM’s “interruption” of the MkP
continues to vex and perplex scholars even in our present age of study. It is
so trenchant a legacy that Ludo Rocher mentions it in his very first line
introducing his discussion of the MkP: “the Mārkaṇḍeya [Purāa] consists
of 137 adhyayas; the purana proper is interrupted by the thirteen chapters
(81–93) of the Devīmāhātmya” (Rocher 1986, 191). He again reiterates its
status as an “interruption”, writing a bit later in his discussion that the MkP
“proper is interrupted by thirteen chapters (81–93) which form the
Devīmāhātmya” (Rocher 1986, 193). He later more fully unpacks the DM’s
mismatched status as follows:
Even though the Devīmāhātmya has, more often than not, been
recognized as an originally independent composition, its date and the
date of the Mārkaṇḍeya [Purāa] have, in most cases, been examined
simultaneously. The general idea is that the māhātmya is a later work
which, at a certain moment, has been inserted into the already existing
purāa. As indicated earlier, the description of the consecutive Manus
is interrupted after chapter eighty, and resumes in chapter ninety-four
with the same interlocutors, Mārkaṇḍeya and Krauṣṭuki; the
interruption occurs on account of the eighth Manu, Sāvari, an
incarnation of king Suratha who, after hearing the exploits of the Devī
becomes a worshiper of the goddess. This “obviously very flimsy”
connection implies, then, that the purāa is older than the māhātmya.
(Rocher 1986, 195)
Let us keep in mind that the assemblers weaving the narrative of the DM
into that of the MkP (along with those responsible for transmitting these
works) would surely be equally (if not more acutely) aware of the texture of
the work and would have registered the distribution of its material; yet, to
my knowledge, it is only we scholars at the Western academy who seem to
take issue with the DM’s status as proper to the MkP. The distinction of a
“sectarian” versus “non-sectarian” spirit as advanced by Wilson and
Pargiter above is not one that the assemblage itself supports, much less
takes issue with. The Purāa appears oblivious that the presence of the DM
might be an interruption to the section of the MkP where it is found. Nor
are we in possession of traditional commentators who experience any angst
that the contours of the Goddess should peek out from the fabric of the text.
If there is a “spirit” at play, which has guided the hearts and hands of the
assemblers of the MkP including the DM, it is of an artistic, rather than
sectarian, variety. It manifests in thematic motifs residing within the
mansion of the MkP, to which ample attention was paid by these
assemblers, in an effort to accordingly adorn and furnish their architectural
expansions of this abode. Now that we are familiar with the manner in
which the MkP has been traditionally dissected into five constituent
historical creations, let us trace the themes which cut across these strata,
humouring the hermeneutics of framing argued in this study. What might
we find when looking at the manner in which the work as a whole is
framed? This very theme is pursued in Chapter 4, “Mapping Mārkaṇḍeya”.
1.2 Solar sources
Veneration of the Sun, in one form or another, has played an integral role at
every historical juncture of Indian religion, to which the textual records
attest. That this was the case from Vedic is amply evidenced by the many
Vedic hymns to Sūrya, the divinity ascribed to the solar orb itself. In the
words of Farquhar, prominence of Sūrya worship “may be partially gauged
by the supremacy of the Gāyatrī among Vedic prayers” prescribed as
evening and morning prayer for all twice-born men to this day (Farquhar
1920, 151). Yet, we only see for the first time in the MBh a full-fledged
Saura cult. For example, Yudhiṣṭhira is met with 1,000 Sun-worshippers
upon leaving his chamber in the morning (MBh VII.82.14–16). Yet, what
we see in the Saura myths of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a is most remarkable,
even comparison to the considerable solar laudation we find in the great
epic. Mārkaṇḍeya eulogizes Sūrya as the eternal, supreme spirit pervading
all things (brahman), indeed the self-existent source of all, on whom the
ascetics desirous of emancipation meditate. Let us examine the existent to
which we see glimpses of this solar vision in other Sanskrit texts.
1.2.1 The Sun in Vedic sources
As evidenced through millennia of Sanskrit religious literature, each epoch
of Indian religion is marked by some sort of solar veneration.2 That the Sun
is an important deity to Vedic religion3 cannot be overstated. This is
perhaps unsurprising for a nomadic culture heavily dependent upon the
forces of nature and ultimately the Sun for survival. Moreover, that the
daily rising and falling of this celestial orb would capture the religious
imagination of any culture hardly needs justification, particularly as a
heavenly counterpart to the sacrificial fire so crucial to Vedic religion. The
following hymn from the Atharva Veda in fact explicitly equated the Sun
with the sacred fire:
A Golden Eagle thou hast soared with light to heaven.
Those who would harm thee as thou fliest skyward.
Beat down, O Jātavedas, with thy fury. The strong hath feared:
to heaven mount up with light, O Sūrya (Atharva Veda 19.65).
(Griffith 1895)
In the Vedic literature alone, we see a preponderance of solar deities,
variously grouped over time, undoubtedly the result of some silent
syncretism between Aryan and non-Aryan solar veneration. Take, for
example, the Ādityas (Srivastava 1972, 116–22), an uncertain grouping of
solar deities, first including Mitra, Aryamān, Bhaga, Varua, Daka ans
Aśa, eventually folding in Sūrya and Mārtaṇḍa, growing up to twelve in
number over time. There is, moreover, a common grouping of solar deities
in the Vedic literature consisting of Sūrya, Savitri, Mitra, Viṣṇu, an and
Bhaga, often also including the Aśvins, Ādityas and Vivasvat (Srivastava
1972, 47).
We see a correspondence between these solar deities and different
aspects of the Sun: Savitri, for example, represents the simulative aspect, or
spiritual power of the Sun (Srivastava 1972, 66–80), most famously
represented in the Gāyatrī hymn advancing “the belief that solar light is the
1
2
3
4
5
symbol of ultimate knowledge and reality” (Srivastava 1972, 76); Mitra
(meaning ‘friend’), as the name suggests, represents the Sun’s benevolent,
supportive aspect (Srivastava 1972, 80–6); an his propensity to grant
prosperity (Srivastava 1972, 98–113). Vivasvat, is connected to fire
sacrifice (Srivastava 1972, 113–16); and Viṣṇu, is variously associated with
the swift motion and generative power of the Sun (Srivastava 1972, 86–98).
The Aśvin twins tend to correspond to the healing power of the Sun, though
they are also fairly obscure, their duality perhaps representing dark and
light, or the twilight (Srivastava 1972, 122–40). The horse (aśva) is one of
the prime symbols of the Sun well beyond the association with the Aśvins.
The second very prominent symbol of the Sun would be as a bird.
The most common epithet of the Sun in the Vedic hymns is Sūrya
(Srivastava 1972, 48–66). Sūrya is explicitly invoked as the great giver of
light, dispeller of darkness bar none (Srivastava 1972, 52–3). It naturally
follows that he is associated with sight, and witnessing:
MAY Sūrya guard us out of heaven, and Vāta from the firmament,
And Agni from terrestrial spots.
Thou Savitar whose flame deserves one hundred libations, be thou
pleased:
From failing lightning keep us safe.
May Savitar the God, and may Parvata also give us sight;
May the Creator give us sight.
Give sight unto our eye, give thou our bodies sight that they may
see:
May we survey, discern this world.
Thus, Sūrya, may we look on thee, on thee most lovely to behold,
See clearly with the eyes of men (g Veda X.158).
(Griffith 1896b)
Sūrya is also explicitly connected with healing. He is also not only related
to Time as its instrument, being the maker of day and arbiter of hours, he is
also equated with Time itself (Srivastava 1972, 65). Beyond his role as
representing abstractions such as ‘time’ and ‘healing’, the Vedic literature
anthropomorphizes Sūrya, he whose rays serve as his hands or as seven
horses of his chariot drawn across the firmament. Sūrya is the son of Aditi,
1
2
3
4
5
lover of Dawn, husband of Sarayū, father of Yama, and is even described
as the priest of the gods (Srivastava 1972, 50–1).
In addition to the mythologization of the Sun, there are a number of
references in the Vedic literature pertaining to worship of the Sun. For
example, the Sun was worshipped at four junctures sunrise, zenith, sunset
and midnight with Sūrya being explicitly connected to the rising Sun.
While there are isolated associations of different deities corresponding to
each juncture for example, Vivasvat relating to the rising Sun, Sāvit
relating to the setting Sun there is no ultimate distinction to be drawn.
There is also reference in the Vedic literature to ritual aspects of Sun
worship pertaining to marriage, initiation and ceremonies, (Srivastava 1972,
160–70).
Sūrya is construed as a spiritual force in the Vedic literature, described as
the soul of all that moves and does not move (sūrya ātmā
jagatastasthusaśca, RVI.115.I). This, of course, may well be a later
development as it hints at the upaniadic world-view (Srivastava 1972, 58–
64). Yet, to my mind, the hymn decidedly represents the ethos of Vedic
religion:
THE brilliant presence of the Gods hath risen, the eye of Mitra,
Varua and Agni.
The soul of all that moveth not or moveth, the Sun hath filled the
air and earth and heaven.
Like as a young man followeth a maiden, so doth the Sun the
Dawn, refulgent Goddess:
Where pious men extend their generations, before the Auspicious
One for happy fortune.
Auspicious are the Sun’s Bay-coloured Horses, bright, changing
hues, meet for our shouts of triumph.
Bearing our prayers, the sky’s ridge have they mounted, and in a
moment speed round earth and heaven.
This is the Godhead, this might of Sūrya: he hath withdrawn what
spread o’er work unfinished.
When he hath loosed his Horses from their station, straight over
all Night spreadeth out her garment.
In the sky’s lap the Sun this form assumeth that Varua and Mitra
may behold it.
6
His Bay Steeds well maintain his power eternal, at one time bright
and darksome at another.
This day, O Gods, while Sūrya is ascending, deliver us from
trouble and dishonour.
This prayer of ours may Varua grant, and Mitra, and Aditi and
Sindhu, Earth and Heaven
(g Veda I.115) (Griffith 1896a)
In the Upaniadic literature, the Sun is explicitly construed as spiritual
symbol of the self:
Let a man meditate on the udgītha (Om) as he who sends warmth (the
sun in the sky). When the sun rises it sings as Udgātri for the sake of
all creatures. When it rises it destroys the fear of darkness. He who
knows this, is able to destroy the fear of darkness (ignorance).
(Chāndogya Upaniad 1.3) (Muller 1879b, 7)
The Sun is also worshipped as an instrument of spiritual purification:
The all-conquering Kaushītaki adores the sun when rising saying:
“Thou art the deliverer, deliver me from sin.” In the same manner he
adores the sun when in the zenith, saying: “Thou art the highest
deliverer, deliver me highly from sin.” In the same manner he adores
the sun when setting, saying: “Thou art the full deliverer, deliver me
fully from sin.” Thus he fully removes whatever sin he committed by
day and by night. And in the same manner he who knows this, likewise
adores the sun, and fully removes whatever sin he committed by day
and by night.
(Kauśītakī Upaniad 2.7) (Muller 1879a, 285)
1.2.2 The Sun in epic sources
1.2.2.1 The Mahābhārata
While one may regard The Mahābhārata as a whole as an allegorical battle
of dark and light as waged between the forces of (solar) Viṣṇu’s avatāra,
Kṛṣṇa, and their devious opponents, the marks of solar veneration in
India’s great epic and the epic period more broadly4 are much more
glaring than this. This is the first place we see mention of an explicit Saura
sect. It is in fact one of the five most prominent sects within India’s great
epic, including which are Gaeśas, Śāktas, Śaivas, Vaiṣṇavas and Sauras.
For example, we are told that there are 1,008 Sauras, steeped in Vedic
learning, in attendance at the ṇḍava camp. The presence of a solar
sectarian following may be further inferred from some of the proper names
in the Mahābhārata such as Sūryadhvaja, Sūryadatta (Srivastava 1972,
181). Epic expressions of solar veneration are marked by the idiom of
devotionalism and full-fledged anthropomorphism of the Sun, for example,
Sūrya appearing in human form to conceive Kara with Kuntī.
Aside from and perhaps because of the Sun being his unwitting
father, the Sun was an object of great devotion and veneration for Kara.
We are told that he “worshipped the sun until his back was burned [during
which time the steadfast Kara] sat muttering prayers” (MBh I.104.15)
(van Buitenen 1973, I: 241). In an exchange between father and son where
the Sun attempts to warn Kara of Indra’s plot to deprive him of his
protective armour, the Sun states:
you are my devotee and I have to protect my devotees. And I know that
this man here is devoted to me with the strongest devotion, strong-
armed Kara. If devotion to me has arisen in you, then do as I say …
(MBh III.285.6–7) (van Buitenen 1975, II: 782)
Likewise, Kara responds with: “thou knowest that to no other God am I as
strongly devoted as to thee. Neither my wife, nor my sons, nor my own self,
nor my friends are as close to my devotion as thou art” (MBh III.286.1–3)
(van Buitenen 1975, II: 783). The story of Kara, along with the
relationships between this solar thread and Mārkaṇḍeya, shall be discussed
in Chapter 4 “Mapping Mārkaṇḍeya”.
Yudhiṣṭhira himself worships the Sun at the outset of Book III, “The
Book of The Forest” (MBh III.3), by reciting his 108 names. He does so to
seek the Sun’s blessing in feeding his entourage whole in exile. This
exchange showcases not only the devotional idiom to seek a deity’s blessing
through ritualized laudation, it also showcases the beneficial aspect of the
Sun, invoked to sustain the Pāṇḍava camp for thirteen years in forest exile.
Even King Savara, the ancestral patriarch of the Kuru dynasty, father
of Kuru, worships the Sun:
King Savaraa, was wont to worship the Sun with offerings of guest
gifts and garlands, with fasts and observances, and with manifold
mortifications. Obediently and unselfishly and purely, the scion of the
Pauravas worshiped the splendiferous Sun with great devotion as He
rose.
(MBh I.11.12–14)
It is in fact because of this devotions that he is given the Sun’s daughter,
Tapatī, in marriage.
So, it came about that the Sun judged the grateful and law-minded
Savaraa on earth to be Tapatī equal in beauty. He then desired to
give the maiden in marriage to that sublime King Savaraa, O
Kaurava, whose descent was glorious.
(MBh I.11.12–15)
Beyond evidencing a full-fledged Saura cult, India’s great epic riff on
Kara’s solar symbolism throughout, which, in the words of Adam Bowles,
“provides a mythic underpinning to his rivalry with Arjuna, the son of the
storm-god Indra, who is a rival to Sūrya in the earlier Vedic period of Indian
mythology” (MBh VIII Bowles Translation; 2006–2008, 45 n. 13).
Indeed, Arjuna “had been created by the mighty Indra for powers sake, so
that he might destroy the mighty Kara” (I.143.38; Bowles Translation;
2006–2008, 301). The MBh is also cognisant of the the relationship
between Yama and the Sun we see in Vedic myth; Yama tells Arjuna:
“Kara, who is a particle of my father, the God who sends heat to all the
worlds, the might Kara, will be slain by you” (MBh III.42.20; Bowles
Translation; 2006–2008, 304).
1.2.2.2 The Rāmāya
a
The Sun is the progenitor of the solar line of epic kings, and this is the
illustrious ancestor of Rāma himself. Beyond this, there is a crucial point in
the plot of the Rāmāya
a at which the Sun is worshipped. While absent
from the Critical Edition, several manuscripts (particularly of the southern
recension of the work) include a very popular sixty-four-verse Hindu hymn
to the Sun, the Ādityahdaya, in Book VI of the Vālmīki Rāmāya
a (1–64).
The Ādityahdaya enjoys a vibrant ritual life, intoned by Hindus to invoke
e
the Sun. Sage Agastya teaches the hymn to Rāma on the battlefield during
his engagement with Rāvaa so that Rāma by propitiating the Sun may
gain the requisite power to defeat his foe once and for all, which he does
upon learning the hymn. It should also be noted that the Sun is the
mythological father of the vānara Sugrīva, whom Rāma helps install as the
king of the monkey folk (by slaying Sugrīva’s brother and rival Vālin), in
exchange for Sugrīva’s allegiance and aid in recovering Sītā.
1.2.3 The Sun in Purā
ic sources
1.2.3.1 The Mahā-Purā
as
Generally speaking, while the early Purāas continue in much the same
vein as Vedic religiosity, the more popular name for the Sun is known as
Āditya over Sūrya. In the myths of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a (102.14), we
are told he is named Āditya not because he is the son of Aditi, but because
he is born first in the universe. The Purāas give elaborate descriptions of
the iconography and chariot of the Sun, along with Saura vratas and rites.
Solar veneration takes on full-fledged devotional (pūjā) to Solar icons
(mūrtīs) in the Purāas. There are a handful of moments where Purāic
characters explicitly worship the Sun for their purposes: Yajñavalkya
worships the Sun to get the text of the Yajus (236); Satrājuta worships the
Sun to earn a special gem (237). The only other place the Sun is worshipped
in the Mahāpurāas is by Brahmā, Aditi and Rājyavardhana in the MkP
(discussed at length in Chapter 2). The benevolent function of the Sun
proper to Vedic literature is retained in the Purāas. Yet, in the MkP, we see
a destructive aspect of the Sun (mirroring the destructive aspect of the
Goddess), which, to my knowledge, is absent elsewhere in the Purāas.
Srivastava notes that Sun worship on the ground of Indian soil from
about third to twelfth century . Sun worship in some form or other is
mentioned in Vāyu, Viṣṇu, Brāhmaṇḍa, Matsya, Mārkaṇḍeya, Bhaviya,
Brahmā, Skanda, Varāha, Agni, Garua, Viṣṇudharmottara, Bhaviyottara,
Kālikā and Sāmba Purāas (Srivastava 1969, 230). The Agni Purā
a
(Chapters 51; 73; 99) and Garu
a Purā
a (Chapters 7, 16, 17, 39) deal
with proper iconography and ritual worship of the Sun. Interestingly,
Chapter 50 of the Agni Purā
a describes the proper characteristics of
Caṇḍī iconography. The Matsya Purā
a also gives detailed instructions
regarding construction of images, iconography of the nine planets and on
vows (vratas) for the Sun (CCLXI.1–7; XCIV.1) (Srivastava 1969, 241).
The Vāyu Purā
a (CVIII.36) “states that in the Gayātīrtha there are
installed four images of Sūrya which are expressions of the four different
yugas and if they are seen, touched, and worshipped liberation of ancestors
is guaranteed” (Srivastava 1969, 240). The Vi
ṣṇ
u Purā
a (2.8–10) offers
descriptions of the Sun, his chariot, his horses and his nature, along with
information pertaining to his path across the sky.
The only places where we see substantial discourse on Saura practices
are in the Sāmba Purā
a, and the Bhavi
ya Purā
a which borrows
therefrom. The Bhavi
ya Purā
a (Chapters 47–215) functions as a
compendium of Saura material, with extensive passages borrowed from the
Sāmba Purā
a (Rocher 1986, 152). In the words of Rocher:
Although there are references to an Aditya° and a Surya° the Saura°
is decidedly Śaiva –, the two most important puranic texts connected
with Surya and sun worship are the Sāmba and the Brāhmaparvan of
the Bhaviya. References in these texts to Magas, sun worshiping
brahmans of Śākadvīpa and to Sāmba bringing them from there to
India, attracted the attention of scholars from an early date onward.
(Rocher 1986, 115)
This is discussed in the following section.
1.2.3.2 Minor Saura texts
There are relatively few surviving explicitly Saura Sanskrit texts. With
respect to works which praise the Sun, Gonda makes mention in his
Sanskrit Medieval Literature section of his edited series A History of Indian
Literature only of Mayūra’s early seventh-century Sūrya-Śataka (Gonda
1977, 251) and to a Sūrya Gītā in one lone sentence as follows: “The Surya-
Gita must belong to the comparatively late works of this genre because it
has undergone the influence of Rāmānuja’s Viśiṣṭādvaita philosophy”
(Gonda 1977, 276). The obscure Sūrya Gītā expounds Viśiṣṭādvaita
philoosphy. There exists a Saurasamhitā among the six sahitās of the
Skanda Purā
a: Sanatkumāra, Sūta, Śakarī or Agastya, Vaiṣṇavī,
Brāhmī, and Saura or Saurī (Rocher 1986, 234). While it is Śiva who is
supreme in this work, the Saurasahitā is not without adoration to Sūrya
(Rocher 1986, 237). There also exists, among the thrity-one minor
Upanishads associated with the Atharva Veda, a certain Sūrya Upani
ad
wherein Atharvangiras extols the virtues of the Sun. It identifies the ātman
with Sūrya, the prime cause of the phenomenal world, the essence of
Brahmin, at one with the gods of heaven. It also prescribes ritual utterance
of mantric formula in honour of Sūrya, and lists the benefits of proposed
recitation.
The Sūrya Śa
aka was composed by Mayūra, a seventh-century Sanskrit
poet who was allegedly the rival of the poet Baa (author of the Caṇḍī-
Śataka). The work consists of 101 stanzas each “invoking the aid,
protection or blessing of Sūrya, or of his rays, his horses, his chariot, his
charioteer, or his disk” (83–4). Quackenbos notes that he is petitioned
explicitly for protection in thirty stanzas, prosperity in fifteen stanzas,
removal from misfortune in eleven, happiness in seven and the bestowal of
welfare and satisfaction of requests in eleven stanzas; compare this to
cessation of rebirth in only two stanzas (Quackenbos 1917, 84). Sūrya’s
rays (1–43), his horses (44–9), his charioteer, Arua (50–61), his chariot
(62–72), then the solar disk itself (73–80). The remainder of the poem
touches on several themes, including comparison to Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Śiva
(91–3), Sūrya’s supremacy (94), and various mythological allusions (e.g. to
the churning of the ocean myth). The Caṇḍī-Śataka and Sūrya-Śataka are
fairly close in length (the Caṇḍī-Śataka being 102 verses whereas the
Sūrya-Śataka is 101), both in the sragdharā meter (aside from the six
śārdūlavikrīita verses of the Caṇḍī-Śataka), and share a similar poetic
style, and common verbal forms. In his comparison between the two,
Quackenbos notes that:
as regards subject-matter, both poems deal with well-worn themes
the praise of deities Sūrya and Caṇḍī respectively as both authors,
Mayūra and a, have embellished their productions with numerous
allusions drawn from the vast and seemingly inexhaustible storehouse
of Vedic, Epic and Puranic mythology.
(Quackenbos 1917, 264)
Important for our purposes is that the poem betrays familiarity between
hymns to Sūrya at MBh III.3.15–79; MkP 107–110; VP 2.8–10.
1.2.3.3 Saura upa-Purā
as
There are four lost Saura upa-Purāas that we know of: 1) the
Sauradharma upa-Purā
a is a lost Saura text mentioned in the Bhavi
ya
Purā
a, dated around 800 , dealing with the prescribed duties of the Sauras
(Hazra 1958, 347–9); 2) the Sauradharmottara upa-Purā
a is yet another
lost Saura upa-Purā
a dealing with the Saura duties, which Hazra dates
around 900 (Hazra 1958, 349); 3) the Sūrya Purā
a, now lost, is probably
an early work (Hazra 1958, 349), which, as Rocher states: “There are
several indications to suggest the existence, at one time, of a Sūrya Purā
a,
a Saura upapurana different from the Samba and the Saura [Purāas]”
(Rocher 1986, 238); and 4) the lost Saura Purā
a is not to be confused
with the Āditya Purā
a as often is the case. While its narrator is Sūrya, it is
a decidedly Śaiva work: it is Śiva’s supremacy which is extolled therein,
though the work at times associates Śiva with the Sun.
The Āditya Purā
a is one of the earliest, most popular upa-Purāas,
cited by Alberūnī as one of the Purāas he had come across. As Rocher
mentions:
The Aditya Purāa figures in al-Bīrūnī’s list of eighteen puranas; it is
one of the three puranas which he has actually seen, and he quotes a
few verses from it in translation. The Aditya Purā
a is also frequently
quoted by the nibandhakāras, on a large variety of topics: death and
ritual for the dead, impurity, marriage and duties of married life,
donations, vratas, and festivals.
(Rocher 1986, 134)
Hazra dates it at fifth century and places it most probably in North India
(Hazra 1963, 492). It is distinct from the lost Saura Purā
a. Despite its
name, the Āditya Purā
a is not a Saura Purāa per se: “it was a non-
sectarian work dealing with the praise and worship of Sūrya, Viṣṇu, Śiva,
Durand other deities” (Hazra 1963, 495) (for a detailed examination of
the various themes pervading the purāa, see Hazra 1963, 495–501).
1.2.3.4 The Sāmba Purā
a
The Sāmba Purā
a is a work of eighty-four chapters, which tells the story
of Kṛṣṇa’s beautiful son, Sāmba, and his building of a Sun temple, at
e
e
.c
ce
e
e
which he installs Magian priests to officiate. Sāmba is cursed with leprosy
because of his dalliances with his fathers wives, and so Nārada advises
Sāmba to worship Sūrya for healing, which he does. Sūrya is pleased by
Sāmba’s worship and requests that Sāmba erect an image of him on the
banks of the Candrabhāgā river. While bathing, Sāmba finds an image and
establishes it in Mitravana, where he builds a temple to house it. In
searching for priests for the temple, he again seeks the counsel of Nārada
who sends him again to see the Sun. Sūrya counsels him to bring the Maga
priests (brahmins from Śākadvīpa, which is perhaps Scythia) to serve as
temple priests. Sāmba flies to Śākadvīpa on Garua (whom he asks
Vāsudeva’s permission to borrow) and returns with eighteen Maga families
As mythologized in the Sāmba Purā
a, the arrival of Magi Sun-priests
into India is indisputable given the preponderance of evidence from a
number of sources epigraphy, foreign notices, Ptolemy (second century ),
Varāhamihira (sixth century ) (Srivastava 1988, 144). The Vi
ṣṇ
u Purā
a,
too, mentions Magas as brāhmaas of Śākadvīpa, that is, the magi of Persia
(2.4.69–70). There is archaeological evidence that “the Magas entered into
India for the first time in wake of the Achaemenian invasion of the 6th–5th
century (Srivastava 1989, 151). Srivastava innovatively argues that they
arrived in three waves: the Achaemenid invasion (fifth–fourth century );
the Śaka-Kuāna period (first–second century ); and finally as part of the
reaction to the Islamic invasion of Afghanistan in fifth–sixth century , by
which time they were folded into Indian society as brahmins proper
(Srivastava 1989, 158). Varāha Mihira, the sixth-century author of the
astronomical-astrological work B
had Sa
hitā:
makes it plain that in his day Sūrya was represented in his images in
Persian fashion, and he lays down the rule for the installation and
consecration of these images and their temples by Magians, using the
very sloka which occurs in the [Bhaviya] Purana.
(Farquhar 1920, 153)
Solar iconography from the Kushana to post-Gupta attests to a foreign
influence (Pandey 1984, 204). However, while Pandey takes it as evidence
that “an inscription at Govindpur in Gaya District dated the Śaka year 1059
(1137–38 .) also supports the view that Magas were brought into the
e
country by Samba” (Pandey 1984, 204), this evidences only that the Sāmba
Purā
a was a well-established text in that region at that time.
It is evident that this group of Sun-priests, and their practices enrich
existing Indian Sun worship, evolutes of Vedic and Epic religiosity.
Srivastava notes that the Sun cult is unique among religious systems in
India insofar as it “came to be indistinguishably associated with a foreign
priesthood” (Srivastava 1988, 109), namely, that of the Magian priests of
Iran variously referred to as Maga, Bhojaka, Vācaka, Pūjaka, Sevaka,
Śākadvīpīya Brāhmaa and Sūryadvija. There are several textual references
of the arrival of Maga priests from the land of Śākadvīpa. Both the
Mahābhārata and Vi
ṣṇ
u Purā
a consider Magas as one among the four
castes of Śākadvīpa (Pandey 1984, 203). The Magian priesthood’s most
marked impact on Saura practice was on the introduction of solar
iconography whereas the Sun was previously invoked in disk form
(Srivastava 1989, 154). This strand of Sun worship was ultimately woven
into the tapestry of orthodox Indian religion to the point of appearing in
Sanskrit literature.
Among all Purāic works, it is only the Sāmba Purā
a which deals
principally with the Indian Saura cult we see first mentioned in the
Mahābhārata (with Magian influence in addition). Hazra proposes it was
composed some time between 500–800 , and Srivastava argues that it was
composed in primarily two geographical locations: the Punjab and Orissa
(Srivastava 2013, xii). It contains various Saura stories, ritual prescriptions
and even fleshes out a description of Sūrya loka. In the words of Rocher:
“This story of the origin of sun worship in Jambudvīpa is the principal
theme of the purana; it is, of course, interrupted and followed by various
stories, many of which are meant further to glorify Sūrya and his worship”
(Rocher 1986, 217). Not only is all of the Saura material we see in the
Bhavi
ya Purā
a borrowed from the Sāmba Purā
a, the Skanda, Brahmā,
Varāha, Agni and Garu
a Purā
as all borrow their material from the
Sāmba Purā
a (Srivastava 1969, 246–7).
The Sāmba Purā
a firmly establishes the sectarian supremacy of Sūrya,
wherein he is praised as the highest among the gods, indeed the original,
primordial source of divine power from whom the universe was manifest at
creation, and into whom the universe is dissolved at the time of cosmic
dissolution. Therefore, he is worthy of worship and devotion: Sūrya alone is
to be worshipped for final release from the bondage of sasāra (Hazra
1958). The existence of the Sāmba Purā
a evidences the historical
presence of a thriving sectarian movement dedicated to solar veneration,
marked by Magian influences, asserting the supremacy of the Sun. Hazra’s
conjecture about the historical forces behind the production of such a work
are reasonable. He surmises that the existing Indian cult needed to
legitimize the Magas as full-fledged brahmins to authorize the Magian
influences on their solar veneration, probably because these influences had
become too popular to be neglected. This is a reasonable accourt for why
the DM should inhabit the MkP as well: clearly, fully born Goddess
worship did not spring out of nowhere and appear in Brahmanical fold in
the mouth of Mārkaṇḍeya. As Hazra concludes: “the Sāmba Purāa had to
be written and chapters had to be inserted into the Bhaviya and other
Purāņic work” (Hazra 1955, 63). Hazra’s is the only sustained study of the
Sāmba Purā
a (Hazra 1958, 32–108). Srivastava has produced the only
critical edition and English translation of the Sāmba Purā
a (Srivastava
2013), following up on the prompting of Hazra from forty years prior
(Srivastava 2013, xvii). Hazra provides a detailed summary of the Purāa’s
contents (Hazra 1958, 36–57), as:
preeminently the work of the Sauras [wherein] the Sun is called the
highest deity and the Supreme Brahman. He is both the individual and
supreme soul and is both one and many. While residing as ketrajña in
the material body this Supreme Being, who is both personal and
impersonal, remains formless and is not contaminated by actions or
influenced by the objects of senses. When transcending the three guas
he is called Purua. It is he who is worshipped in different forms by
gods and by me in the different stages of their life, and who pervades
the universe and is its protector and regulator.
(Hazra 1958, 56–7)
One would readily conjecture the SM derives inspiration from the materials
in the Sāmba Purā
a, perhaps sculpting that material to conform to the
contours of the DM as a successful textual formula for establishing within
the folds of Sanskritic Brahmanism a foothold of the burgeoning sectarian
cult. Marrying the content (or at least inspiration) of the Sāmba Purā
a and
the form of the Devī Māhātmya, the ancient Indian Sun worship birth the
SM, and in so doing, receives the same sanction from Mārkaṇḍeya as do
their Śākta counterparts. Frankly, for all we know, it was the Śākta authors
who were inspired by their Saura counterparts. All we can say with
certainty is that these texts partake in an important sectarian symbiosis, and
moreover as is argued in this work that that symbiosis is part of a larger
ideological ecosystem pervading the MkP, defined by the ethos of
preservation as articulated in prav
tti religion, celebrated in the work of
kings, the Goddess and the Sun.
1.3 Synchronic strategy
First, this is a textual project. Rather than examining iconography,
inscriptions, ritual practices, temple architecture and historical documents, I
adopt as my data Sanskrit texts. Second, I specifically analyse Sanskrit
narrative texts. Third, as is my prediction, I undertake synchronic study of
the Sanskrit Saura and Śākta narratives I examine. Studies such as this
correct the scholarly impulse to jump to diachronically dissecting Sanskrit
narrative texts. Before embarking on an ancient city archaeological dig,
should one not register and appreciate the city as it stands? Insofar as this is
a synchronic study, I invoke the work of Umberto Eco in understanding the
world within the text, a world designed to elicit interpretation (Eco 1994).
The major fallacy in the study of Indian myth is that scholars seem to think
this literary principle is nullified by multiple authorship over multiple
historical junctures. This could not be further from the truth: the principle
which Eco so masterfully maps (as the great semiotician and lover of
literature that he was), is enriched, not nullified, by the presence of multiple
authors as in the Purāas because each subsequent author has retained an
attentiveness to the essential themes of the text. Such ‘renovations’ are
misguidedly taken for ‘intrusion’. The final redactions we have of the epics
and Purāas constitute the most upgraded to the religious software
powering Indian religion. And these upgrades were implemented in the face
of tremendous thought and attention to the interplay between narrative form
and content. The Mahābhārata, for example, is one of the most
sophisticated, structured pieces of literature on the planet not despite the
fact that it results from extensive diachronic redaction, but because that
redaction was done with astute awareness to the world within the text.
Sanskrit narratives adopt a most potent hermeneutic device: narrative
frames. Eco certainly has enough to say about interpreting stories, but what
about diachronically produced stories within stories? I have some thoughts
on the matter. Beyond mere musings, these thoughts make up the
methodology I use to grapple with Sanskrit literature. The ensuing
apparatus has been derived from extended exposure to Sanskrit narrative
texts, with an eye to understanding the ways in which individual episodes
relate to one another. It was abundantly clear to me that frame narratives are
in no way haphazard. In trying to grapple with such texts temporally, we
neglect to first grapple with them thematically. The following theoretical
schema on how to read frame narratives was not hatched overnight, rather it
arose piecemeal over much time as I floundered to find the means of
expressing the specific relational patterns I began to perceive and especially
in order to disambiguate the five different entities to which I
interchangeably referred to as narrative “frame”. This section articulates
concepts and practices implicated in the reading of Sanskrit narrative text
which I had long since internalized.
1.3.1 Framing the framing
A narrative’s (intrinsic) framing consists of what occurs at the very
beginning of the episode coupled with what occurs at the very end of the
episode, and there is great import to be derived from a narrative’s framing
(framing import). While the narrative elements which extrinsically frame an
episode through association (i.e. its preceding and subsequent associates) do
not generally work in tandem, the elements comprising its intrinsic framing
always work in tandem. They comprise the frame proper, as one might
frame a portrait. The intrinsic frame in order to be a “frame” is
necessarily bifurcated into a front-end initial component (referred to herein
as the frame’s initial frame) and a back-end corollary of that component
(referred to herein as the frame’s terminal frame). It is the correspondence
between the initial and terminal frame, which clasps any narrative tributary
to the body of the larger narrative. Framing is not a strict science. While
there is certainly an analytic dimension at play, interpreting frames remains
an art and ultimately bucks the yolk of strict systemization. But the
systematic efforts undergirding the seemingly chaotic surface of Sanskrit
narratives certainly comprises a kind of engineering all of its own. It should
strike us as meaningful that there are no loose threads regarding frame
narratives: when a frame is opened however briefly, however tangentially,
however fancifully it is necessarily closed. And this occurs on all levels
of narrative throughout a multidimensional work. A frame is more than the
mere edge of a portrait which holds it in place. Just as a physical frame
serves to preserve, showcase, highlight and support a portrait, so too does a
framing narrative relate to that which it frames. How one prefaces or
concludes any given statement will surely impact the reception of that
statement. The specific configuration of tales, subtales and narrative frames
resulting from the process of assemblage will necessarily influence the
manner in which one receives any of those individual tales, subtales or
narrative frames independent of that configuration. While it functions in
tandem with its terminal teammate, the vast majority of the heavy lifting
with respect to thematic import and narrative contextualization is
shouldered by the frame’s initial element. A narrative entity’s expositional
import itself is positioned squarely in proximity of its initial framing.
The first type of import, association import might be derived from
examining the manner in which a narrative element might be extrinsically
“framed” by its preceding narrative associate and its subsequent narrative
associate. For example, Chapter X of the Bhagavad-Gītā (BhG) has for its
preceding narrative associate Chapter V, while Chapter Y serves as its
subsequent narrative associate. These extrinsic associates are in oblique
relationship since they do not extend the same storyline sequence. One
might perceive purpose behind why Chapter X comes between these two.
The same principle can (more obviously) apply to narrative entities which
are sequentially associated. For example, the fact that the ṇḍavas engage
Citraratha immediately after hearing the birth of Dṛṣỵadyumna (its
preceding narrative associate) and immediately before Draupadī’s
svayamvara (its subsequent narrative associate) would hold import for
interpreting their encounter with the Gandharva king. Association import
addresses implicit framing (the whole remaining three address explicit
framing), hence it is the weakest of the four types of import, but it is not
without utility.
The second type of import, framing import, refers to intrinsic framing of
the episode as discussed above (to be disambiguated with association
import, which draws upon more loose “framing” of extrinsic narrative
entities). It takes its cue from the interplay between how a narrative entity
commences (its initial frame), and how it concludes (its terminal frame).
The next two types of import can be said to be specialized forms of framing
import.
Expositional import comprises three essential elements, the first two of
which are the expositor import (pronounced themes as manifesting the
biography and career of the expositor), and the interlocutor import
(pronounced themes as manifesting the biography and career of the
expositor). Epithet import provides an avenue of further colouring,
depending on the specific descriptor ascribed to the expositor or
interlocutor. For example, I have drawn on the principle of epithet import to
demonstrate the structurally meaningful deployment of the epithet Acyuta
in the BhG (Balkaran 2020).
The third element of expositional import (in addition to interlocutor
import and expositor import) is prompting import, that is, the series of
questions, requests, declarations and summations exchanged between
interlocutor and expositor in order to cue us as to the contours of the
exposition. A narrative entity is often marked by an interlocutor prompting
an expositor in its initial frame. This prompt, along with the series of
prompts between it and the terminal prompt (the prompt marking the end of
the exposition, which will often be the terminal frame of a narrative entity)
will be collectively charted in the generation of the Exposition Guide. The
expositional import can be quite influential since the expositors reputation
will precede the initial frame of exposition, and will invariably colour the
discourse. To invoke, for a moment, a common modern ‘purāa’ (Lord of
the Rings), an exposition from its inception would have a very different
colouring if Lady Galadriel were the expositor as opposed to Aragorn.
Further, it would matter significantly (with respect to the latter of these
expositors) as to whether or not Aragorn had yet become King Aragorn: the
general framing (the second import discussed above) will tell us the
conditions under which the expositor speaks, and so is not limited to the
expositional import. Suffice to say, much can be drawn into the narrative
entity by means of its expositional import.
The fourth, final, and most powerful form of framing is enframement
import. Part of the reason why this type of import is so sophisticated is
because it draws from at least two thresholds of exposition (and therefore
draws upon two sources of expositional import): an outer exposition
pertaining to the narrative order governing the initial framing of the
confluence (e.g. in the case of the Gītā, Sañjaya expositing for
Dhtarāṣṭra), and an inner exposition pertaining to a subsequent narrative
order through the installation of a new expositor (Kṛṣṇa, expositing for
Arjuna), which, in large part, is the purpose of the interlacement itself.
Enframing is a powerful trope because it grants that which is framed access
to potentially multiple exposition imports based on the number of narrative
orders implicated in the assemblage to that point. In the case of the teaching
we find in the Gītā, one might derive expositor import not merely from
Kṛṣṇa, but also (indirectly) from his mouthpiece Sañjaya: we might, for
example, note that both of these expositors are charioteers. We can even
choose to trace the discourse to another level of enframement in
acknowledging that Sañjaya, too, has a mouthpiece: his words flow into a
higher order of narrative, being relayed by Vaiśampāyana to Janamejaya: in
this case, we might note that all the expositors of all three narrative orders
enframing the Gītā sally forth in their exposition at the behest of royal
interlocutors. Let us, for the sake of this exercise, confine our examination
to the two primary thresholds of expiation outlined in the Enframement
Guide below.
In addition to the exposition imports to be derived, one can (and should)
derive tremendous import specifically from the impetus the bridging
narrative between these two expositional thresholds. In a sense, one can
perceive the bridge narrative in the foreground of the enframement process,
itself enframed by two expositional thresholds. The substance of the bridge,
I call the impetus. The bridge narrative is specifically crafted in order to
usher the audience across from the first narrative threshold to the second,
preparing them to receive the content of the second, both holding and
shifting their attention. Also, and most crucially, it serves as the impetus for
the launching of the second exposition. The impetus manifests as the
problem or issue which needs to be addressed, which paves the way for the
ensuing narrative order to address that impetus. If the expositor import
offers insight into who is speaking, and the interlocutor import offers
insights into whom they address, the impetus (bridge narrative) tells us why
they are speaking. This why will have multiple dimensions, beyond what is
expressed in the prompt of the interlocutor. As will be shown, there will be
multiple ‘whys’, but the impetus defines the ultimate ‘why’ guiding the
exposition. While the prompting will tell us what the interlocutor desires to
know, the impetus tells us why that knowledge is important. The prompt
will indicate the question the exposition is answering, but the impetus
provides us with the problem which needs to be addressed by that
exposition, making clear to us what it hopes (and needs) to accomplish at
that narrative juncture. The impetus (i.e. the bridge between interlocutor
thresholds) will disclose the very purpose for establishing an additional
order of exposition and installing within it an additional expositor. The
tripartite import to be derived from the outer expositional import, the inner
expositional import and the impetus import, is what collectively comprises
the enframement import showcased in the Enframement Guide. Given that
enframement is an aspect of interlacement (the other half being
embedment), one could easily emphasize embedment, and with this draw
up an embedment guide.
Inception import is the most all-encompassing of the avenues of import.
It registers the significance to be derived from the very beginning (the
inception) of any of the constituent elements of a narrative entity, in and of
itself, without looking to a concluding corollary. One might look to the
inception of a segment of speech, especially the first word or verse uttered,
for example, Hiltebeitel notes of Kṛṣṇa in the Mahābhārata that “his words
are authoritative and definitive, and his first word in the epic is dharma
(Hiltebeitel 2010, 119). One might look to the inception of an event, or
action, inspecting the auspices under which it arises. One might also look to
the inception of a character, be it their birth, their creation, their arrival or
the inception of a relationship between character, for example, how they
first meet and bond. To show how this might work: the BhG begins with
“dharma-ketre kuru ketre”, arguably, by virtue of what we are calling the
“alpha-principle” (import derived from beginnings), it is used purposefully.
It “frames” the Gītā insofar as the Gītā occurs along two planes: physically
along the plane of Kuru; and metaphysically along the plane of dharma. If
we narrow our field of observation, and we focus in on the very first term
(within the first verse), again relying upon the alpha principle, we note the
very first word is dharma: at its very inauguration, the Gītā tells us that it is
firstly about acting along the plane of dharma, and secondly about acting
along the plane of Kuru. Only at face value is the Gītā about the activity
within the field of Kuru, and, might more aptly be described as activity
within the field of dharma. In relying on the alpha principle (rather than the
alpha–omega principle), we need not necessarily seek an omega corollary:
we look to the first verse, without looking to the last verse; we look to the
first term within that verse without looking to the last term within that
verse. The omega corollary kicks in when we need to close off (frame) a
narrative entity to make way for a new one. So, arguably, what is invoked in
this verse can be said to implicitly be “closed off” by virtue of the
conclusion of the entity as a whole.
These function as avenues of intelligible import precisely because the
compositional mechanics exerted to construct these avenues were done for
the sake of hermeneutic influence: acts of non-storyline-sequential
assemblage (‘unwieldy framing’) have been undertaken in order to facilitate
interpretation of the entity being assembled. This is not to say that one
ought to restrict oneself to walking down the avenues to which these
conventions point one is free to interpret how one will. What I wish to
accomplish in this work is to exhibit the extent to which enframement is a
highly purposeful enterprise.
1.3.2 Two guiding principles
Prior to commencing our methodological demonstration through analysis of
the Gītā proper, I must first remark on what I call “guiding principles”. This
study notes the prevalence of two compositional principles within the
assemblage of Sanskrit narrative entities, and suggests that they have been
purposefully implemented for the sake of hermeneutic suggestion. The first
of these is the alpha–omega principle, which is the inbuilt mutual
correspondence between the initial and terminal element of any narrative
entity, serving to thematically frame what lies between. The heavy lifting of
framing is accomplished largely by the alpha element in the alpha–omega
correspondence. The omega mostly serves to hearken to, or invoke, its
correspondent alpha counterpart signal the close of one narrative segment,
and paving the way for a subsequent alpha element to hold sway. This
principle governs all four types of import, save for inception import.
The alpha element is the active ingredient in the framing duo, and
therefore we can perceive an alpha principle as implicit within the alpha–
omega principle described above. However, I will use the term alpha
principle (as opposed to alpha–omega principle) to mean where I refer to
import derived from a beginning, in the absence of an obvious backend
corollary. The alpha–omega principle pertains to the four imports, since
they all entail types of framing, where there is a beginning component, and
an end component. However, it is the beginning of anything which is truly
telling. Indeed, one can never really arrive for good at a terminal point, for
it merely paves the way for subsequent beginning. This principle explicitly
governs only inception import, though, of course, is implicated in all types
of import since the initial aspect of any frame will hold much more sway on
the impact of that frame.
My methodology is primarily empowered by these principles which are
quite basic in its fundamental operation, and quite far reaching when
applied to collected sub-narratives. Given any narrative unit, however large
or small (be it a scene, an episode, a sub-narrative, a parvan, a ṇḍa, an
epic, a Purāa), thematic threads spun at the beginning of that unit (its
alpha juncture), will necessarily be tied into the end of that unit (its
correlate omega juncture). Those threads might be tied into the alpha
juncture of the subsequent unit, or simply tied off. An alpha juncture may
be what precedes an episode, in which case its omega correlate would be
what follows that episode. Rather, an alpha juncture might be what occurs
at the very beginning of an episode, and its omega correlate would be what
concludes the episode. There will by definition exist a direct correlation
between the number of alpha junctures and the number of omega junctures
else, we are not dealing with an alpha–omega scenario. However, as shall
be made clear, this principle greatly predominates the placement of episodes
alongside one another, and especially, the placement of episodes within one
another. The very existence of a frame narrative is predicated upon the
alpha–omega principle, for segments which constitute the frame serve as
the alpha (that which commences) and the omega (that which concludes)
whatever it is it is being framed. Given the statistical virtual impossibility
that these should have occurred by chance, I must infer that this was one of
the guiding principles of our narrative assemblers, as they crafted, revised,
collected, and framed various narratives.
One might argue that these two junctures are where one’s attention
naturally alights. The most impactful and/or memorable junctures when
engaging a temporal work of art (as opposed to still-standing works of art),
are its beginning and its ending. These two points serve to define it. And, of
course, the beginning of any enterprise is crucial. The narrative, event, or
prompt which frames a tributary serves as our introduction to that tributary
our first impression if you will. Beginnings are important. We don’t want
to “get off on the wrong foot” or “wake up on the wrong side of the bed”.
1
2
3
4
We put tremendous energy into one’s wedding day since it is the opening
frame of a marriage. Or, the obvious, we celebrate a birth as the opening
frame of a life of possibilities. I have yet in my travels to come across a
crevice of South Asia which is unconcerned with the auspices under which
events and people arise. Inception import is what has kept innumerable
astrologers fed over the centuries. While I readily concede that the process
wherein narratives are embedded within other narratives in South Asian
literature is an art, and not a science, I assert that it is a much more
formulaic practice than we might realize. Its mechanics (largely driven by
the alpha principle) suggest the exertion of conscious effort in order to
purposeful place narrative at junctures where their themes resonate with the
themes of the greater work as manifesting at that juncture. This resonance
mutually amplified by the themes of the subnarrative, and the larger
narrative.
For a terse summary of the voices resounding throughout the history of scholarship on the MkP
(most notably, as featured in this section, that of Wilson, Pargiter, Winternitz, and Hazra), see
Rocher 1986, 191–6.
For a comprehensive examination of Sun worship in India at every phase, see Srivastava 1972.
See Chapter 3, “The Vedic Tradition” (Srivastava 1972, 41–175).
See Chapter 4, “The Epic Stream” (Srivastava 1972, 177–202).
Works cited in this chapter
Agrawala, Vasudeva Sharana. 1963. Devī-Māhātmyam: The Glorification of the Great Goddess.
Varanasi: All-India Kashiraj Trust.
Bailey, Greg. 2005. “The Pravtti/Nivtti Chapters in the Mārkaṇḍeyapurāa”. In Epics, Khilas and
Purā
as. Continuities and Ruptures, edited by P. Koskikallio, 495–516. Zagreb: Croatian
Academy of Arts and Sciences.
Balkaran, Raj. 2019. The Goddess and The King in Indian Myth: Ring Composition, Royal Power,
and the Dharmic Double Helix. London: Routledge.
Balkaran, Raj. 2020. “Arjuna and Acyuta: The Import of Epithets in the Bhagavad-Gītā”. In The
Bhagavad-Gītā; A Critical Introduction, edited by Ithamar Thedor. Delhi: Routledge.
Bowles, Adam. 2006. Mahābhārata: Book 8: Kar
a. Vol. 1. Clay Sanskrit Library. New York: New
York University Press.
Bowles, Adam. 2008. Mahābhārata: Book 8: Kar
a. Vol. 2. Clay Sanskrit Library. New York: New
York University Press.
Buitenen, J.A.B. van. 1973. Mahābhārata: Book 1: The Book of the Beginning. Vol. I. Chicago, IL:
University of Chicago Press.
Buitenen, J.A.B. van. 1975. Mahābhārata: Book 2: The Book of the Assembly Hall; Book 3: The
Book of the Forest. Vol. II. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.
Desai, Nileshvari Y. 1968. Ancient Indian Society, Religion, and Mythology as Depicted in the
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya-Purā
a; a Critical Study. Baroda: Faculty of Arts, M.S. University of Baroda.
Doniger, Wendy. 1996. “Sarayū/Sajñā: The Sun and The Shadow”. In Devī: Goddesses of India,
edited by John Stratton Hawley and Donna Marie Wulff, 154–72. Berkeley, CA: University of
California Press.
Doniger, Wendy. 2014. “Saranyu/Samjna: The Sun and The Shadow”. In On Hinduism. New York:
Oxford University Press, 269–87.
Dutt, Manmatha Nath. 1896. A Prose English Translation of Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a. Calcutta:
Elysium.
Eco, Umberto. 1994. Six Walks in the Fictional Woods. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Farquhar, J.N. 1920. An Outline of the Religious Literature of India. London: H. Milford, Oxford
University Press.
Gonda, Jan. 1977. A History of Indian Literature. Volume II, Fasc. 1. Wiesbaden: O. Harrassowitz.
Griffith, Ralph T., trans. 1895. “Atharva Veda: Book 19: Hymn 66: A Hymn to Agni as the Sun”. In
Hymns of the Atharva Veda. sacred-texts.com.
Griffith, Ralph T., trans. 1896a. “Rig-Veda Book 1: HYMN CXV. Sūrya”. In Rig Veda. sacred-
texts.com.
Griffith, Ralph T., trans. 1896b. “Rig-Veda Book 1: HYMN L. Sūrya”. In Rig Veda. sacred-texts.com.
Hazra, R.C. 1955. “The Sāmba-Purāa, a Saura Work of Different Hands”. Annals of the Bhandarkar
Oriental Research Institute 36 (1.2).
Hazra, R.C. 1958. Studies in the Upapurā
as Vol. 1 (Saura and Vai
ṣṇ
ava Upapurā
as). Calcutta:
Sanskrit College.
Hazra, R.C. 1963. Studies in the Upapurā
as Vol. 2 (Śākta and Non-Sectarian Upapurā
as).
Calcutta: Sanskrit College.
Hazra, R.C. 1975. Studies in the Purā
ic Records on Hindu Rites and Customs. Delhi: Motilal
Banarsidass.
Hiltebeitel, Alf. 2010. Reading the Fifth Veda Studies on the Mahabharata: Essays. Edited by
Vishwa Adluri and Joydeep Bagchee. Leiden: Brill.
Muller, Max, trans. 1879a. “The Upanishads, Part 1 (SBE01): Kaushītaki-Upanishad: Adhyāya II”.
In The Upanishads. sacred-texts.com.
Muller, Max, trans. 1879b. “The Upanishads, Part 1 (SBE01): Khāndogya Upanishad: I, 3”. In The
Upanishads. sacred-texts.com.
Pandey, C.D. 1984. “The Magian Priests and Their Impact on Sun-Worship”. Purā
a 26 (2): 203–5.
Pargiter, F.E. 1904. Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a. Calcutta: Asiatic Society of Bengal.
Quackenbos, George Payn. 1917. The Sanskrit Poems of Mayūra. New York: Columbia University
Press.
Rocher, Ludo. 1986. The Purā
as, edited by Jan Gonda. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz.
Srivastava, V.C. 1969. “The Purāic Records on the Sun-Worship”. Purā
a 11 (2): 229–72.
Srivastava, V.C. 1972. Sun-Worship in Ancient India. Allahabad: Indological Publications.
Srivastava, V.C. 1988. “Two Distinct Groups of Indian Sun-Priests: An Appraisal”. Purā
a 30 (2):
109–20.
Srivastava, V.C. 1989. “Indian Sun-Priests”. Purā
a 31 (2): 142–58.
Srivastava, V.C. 2013. Sāmba Purā
a: An Exhaustive Introduction, Sanskrit Text, English
Translation, Notes and Index of Verses. Delhi: Parimal Publications.
Winternitz, Moriz. 1972a. A History of Indian Literature. Vol 1. New Delhi: Oriental Books Repr.
Corp.
Winternitz, Moriz. 1972b. A History of Indian Literature. Vol 2. New Delhi: Oriental Books Repr.
Corp.
2 Mirrored māhātmyas
Saura–Śākta symbiosis in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Purā
a
This chapter looks at myths of the Sun in the MkP, identifying a second
māhātmya of the MkP, the SM, lauding the supremacy of the Sun in parallel
fashion as the more famous māhātmya of the MkP, the DM, lauds the
supremacy of the Goddess. It suggests that these māhātmyas constitute a
sectarian symbiosis united under the common theme of prav
tti dharma,
exemplified in the work of kings.
2.1 The splendour of the Sun
In commencing its discourse on the 7th Manu (at the outset of Canto 77),
the MkP informs us that the Sun and his wife Sajñā1 (77.1–7) beget a
famous and learned Manu, namely, the current Manu Vaivasvata, along with
Yama and Yamunā. Sajñā, having endured the sharpness (tejas) of the
Sun for some time (77.8) and unable to bear it further, decides to take
refuge with her father (77.8–10). In order to do so, she fashions Chāyā (a
reflection/shadow-form of herself) who, under her instruction, agrees to
take her place no. The goddess Sajñā then goes to her father Tvaṣṭṛs
abode where she is respectfully received. Having remained there for some
time, Tvaṣṭṛ advises her to return to her husband (15–21). Agreeing to his
counsel, she salutes her father respectfully and secretly departs for the
Northern Kurus, unbeknownst to him, still fearing the sharp splendour of
the Sun. She practices austerities and changes herself into the form of a
mare (77.22–23).
Meanwhile the Sun, unaware of the ruse, begets a second family with
Chāyā, one reflecting the first family by consisting also of two sons and a
daughter, Manu, Śanaiścara and Tapatī. Yama exhibits envy when the
younger children are favoured (77.24–25) and raises his foot in anger
against Chāyā, whom he believes at this point to be his own mother.
Astonished at his appalling behaviour, Chāyā curses Yama that his foot
would fall to earth that very day (77.26–30). Yama, terrified of the curse,
complains to Sūrya who summons Chāyā, and apparently seeing through
the ruse, asks after Sajñā (77.30–33). Though Chāyā answers that she is
his wife, Sajñā, and the mother of his children (77.34), the Sun repeatedly
questions her and eventually enraged by her silence on the matter, threatens
to curse her (7.35). Although she promised to hold to the false story, even to
the point of bringing curses upon herself, the Sun’s glare succeeds in
breaking through Chāyā’s pretence. She confesses the truth, at which point
Sūrya goes to pay a visit to his father-in-law, Tvaṣṭṛ, in order to reclaim
Sajñā (77.36). Once there, he is reverently received (77.37). Tvaṣṭṛ,
upon being asked after his daughter, responds, “She came indeed here to my
house, saying she had been verily sent by thee” (77.38). Upon hearing this,
the Sun concentrates his mind in yogic meditation and inwardly sees his
wife in the form of a mare, practising austerities in the Northern Kurus and
is furthermore able to perceive the purpose of her penance, namely that her
husband should acquire a gentle form, beautiful to behold (77.40). Upon
becoming aware of this, the Sun immediately asks of his father-in-law that
his sharp splendour be pared down, to which Viśvakarman of course
reverently complies.
The following Canto (78) commences with the praise of the gods and
divine seers (devar
aya
) who had assembled for the monumental event:
the paring down of the Sun’s tejas. Interestingly, this event appears to be
construed as an auspicious one. While, for example, the waning of the
moon is considered inauspicious, this appears to be a different scenario
wherein excess energy is reabsorbed by the universe to grant the Sun a
more balanced, benign form. Immediately following the fourteen-verse
praise, the Sun begins to shed his splendour (78.15), which not only
comprises the earth, sky, and heaven (svarga) from the aspects of him
which comprised the g, Yajur, and Sāma Veda respectively (78.16), but
the “fifteen shreds of his splendour which were pared off by Tvaṣṭṛ
(78.17) were used to craft Śiva’s trident (78.17) the discus of Viṣṇu’s
discus, “the Vasus, the very terrible weapon of Śankara”, Agni’s spear,
Kubera’s palki (78.18) “and all the fierce weapons of the others who are the
gods’ foes, and of the Yakas and Vidyādharas” (78.19). The Sun at this
point therefore “bears only a sixteenth part of his splendour [which] was
pared off by Viśva-karma into fifteen [other] parts” (78.20). Having
successfully shed himself of his extraneous sharpness (which was harnessed
to craft the weapons of gods and demons alike), the Sun assumes the form
of a stallion and journeys to the Northern Kurus where he encounters
Sajñā in her equine guise (78.21). Upon seeing the stallion approach,
Sajñā, fearful of an encounter with a strange male, engages him face to
face so as to guard her hindquarters (78.22). As their noses met, two sons
were born in Sajñā’s mouth, namely, Nāsatya and Dasra, (78.23), better
known as the Aśvin twins. At the end of the Sun’s emission, Revanta was
born (78.24). The Sun then reveals his “own peerless form, and she gazing
upon his true form felt a keen joy” (78.25) whereupon the Sun “brought
home this his loving wife Sajñā restored to her own shape” (78.26). The
myth then recounts the posts appointed to the children of the Sun as follows
(78.27–34):
Her eldest son then became Vaivasvata Manu; and her second son
Yama became the righteous-eyed judge because of the curse And
Yamunā became the river which flows from the recesses of Mount
Kalinda. The Aśvins were made the gods’ physicians by their high-
souled father. And Revanta also was appointed king of the Guhyakas.
Hear also from me the places assigned to the Shadow-Sajñā’s sons.
The eldest son of the Shadow-Sajñā was equal to Manu the eldest-
born; hence this son of the Sun obtained the title Sāvarika. He also
shall be a Manu when Bali shall become Indra. He was appointed by
his father as the planet Saturn among the planets. The third of them, the
daughter named Tapatī.
Figure 2.1 The Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a solar family tree.
The second telling of the sequence of events between Sūrya, Sajñā,
Chāyā and the two sets of three children occupies Cantos 106–108, and
remains essentially the same. Sajñā again retreats to her fathers abode,
who advises her to return to her husband, and she again adopts the guise of
a mare and departs for the Northern Kurus to practice austerities (106.10–
12). In this version, it is Viśvakarman’s suggestion that the Sun be pared
down, though he readily agrees. When he is being pared down, there is
great chaos amid the heavens and the earth (106.39–47), and the gods again
praise the Sun (106.48–65). Then Viśvakarman offers his own praise
(107.1–10) while pairing down the Sun’s glory to one-sixteenth of its
original status, forging with the remaining fifteen-sixteenths Viṣṇu’s
discus, and “Śiva’s trident, Kubera’s palki, the rod of the lord of the dead,
and the spear of the gods’ general [along with] brilliant weapons of the
other gods with the Sun’s splendour for the quelling of their foes” (108.3–
5). The remainder of the canto details the same sequence of events and the
same allotment of posts as in the first telling. However, the laudation of the
Sun does not end with this recapitulated material.
While the exchange between Sūrya and his wives occurs as a stand-alone
segment in Cantos 77–78 to introduce the current Manu and to thus
contextualize the DM (which serves to introduce the next Manu), it makes a
reappearance (in Cantos 106–108) in a lengthy passage embellishing the
virtues of the Sun (Sūrya), casting him as a supreme primordial power even
above the gods themselves. Remarkably, the MkP dedicates a nine-chapter
episodic trilogy to lauding the majesty of the Sun, which I shall refer to here
as the Sūrya Mahātmya (SM). For the purposes of the discussion at hand, I
shall note the overarching parallels in formal and thematic features between
the two māhātmyas, highlighted in chart form in Figure 2.1.
Table 2.1 Parallels between Devī and Sūrya Māhātmyas
Table 2.2 The structure of the Sūrya Māhātmya
The similitude between these two glorifications demonstrates a
conscious compositional cross-pollination at play among the assemblers of
these māhātmyas. In my search to illumine the glories of the Goddess
(Balkaran 2019), I have stumbled upon a second māhātmya finding a home
in the MkP, one intimately connected to the first, much better known one.
For the structure of the SM, see Figure 2.1.
2.1.1 Mārka
ṇḍ
eya introduces the greatness of the Sun (MkP 101)
The SM material begins with the beginning of the section of the MkP
detailing royal dynasties (va
śānucarita), an integral component of the
idealized five-part purāic pañcalakana archetype discussed at the outset
of this chapter. To set the scene, Mārkaṇḍeya has just finished relaying to
Krauṣṭuki subtales pertaining to of the fourteen Manu-epochs (formally, the
manvantara section; another of the five-pronged metric of Purāa
discussed above) at the end of the previous chapter. As is customary of the
genre, Mārkaṇḍeya’s exposition here is spurred on by an interrogative
prompt on behalf of the eager pupil. Krauṣṭuki, therefore, commences the
chapter thus: “Now that I’ve heard you chronicle the Manu intervals in
detail, I wish to hear in full the genealogy of all the earthly kings, beginning
from Brahmā. Do describe them in detail, Venerable Sir” (MkP 101.1–2).
Mārkaṇḍeya’s immediate response corresponds with the thrust of
Krauṣṭuki’s query, as follows:
Hear, my son, of the origins of kings, of their exploits, starting with the
Creator whose line is adorned with hundreds of noble kings, steadfast
with the sacrifice, and victorious in war. Merely hearing of the exploits
of these high-souled kings, a man is delivered from his sins!
(MkP 101.3–5)
Mārkaṇḍeya continues in stating that the great god Brahmā Prajāpati,
desirous of creating other beings, produces Daka from his right thumb,
and a wife for Daka from his left thumb (MkP 101.9–10). The resplendent
Aditi is born to Daka, of whom Kaśyapa begets the divine Mārtaṇḍa, the
Sun (MkP 101.11). Here, Mārkaṇḍeya’s exposition takes a most fascinating
turn as he proceeds to describe the Sun as conferrer of boons identical with
brahman (brahmā svarūpa), the beginning, middle and end of the
universe, who occasions cosmic creation, preservation, and dissolution. The
universe in fact emerges from the Sun, we are told, in whom everything
exists. The Sun comprises the world, the gods, the demons, and humanity.
He is the essence of everything, indeed the supreme eternal soul (sarvātmā
paramātmā sanātana
) (MkP 101.12–15). The Mārkaṇḍeya concludes his
grand introduction to the greatness of the Sun by mentioning that the Sun
had taken birth in the womb of Aditi, mother of the gods, after she had
worshipped for this outcome (MkP 101.12–15). This tantalizing snippet into
the grandeur of the Sun successfully seduces Krauṣṭuki into upgrading his
previous prompt with one explicitly seeking insight into the Sun’s
greatness, as follows:
Venerable Sir, I wish to hear of the true from of the Sun (svarūpa
vivasvata) and why this primordial god became Kaśyapa’s son. O
best of sages, I wish to hear in full how the Sun was worshipped by
Aditi and Kaśyapa, what words he spoke when propitiated, and about
his prowess once he incarnated.
(MkP 101.16–17)
Mārkaṇḍeya’s description of the Sun is nothing short of monumental
from its very outset. He starts off by describing the forms of the Sun as:
clear, supreme knowledge (vispa
ṣṭ
ā paramā vidyā); eternal, expansive
effulgence (jyotirbhā śāśvatī sphu
ā); liberation (kaivalya); visible
manifestation (āvirbhū); freedom of will (prākāmya); insight (jñāna);
comprehension (sa
vit); intelligence (bodha); conception (avagati);
memory (sm
ti); and discernment (vijñāna) (MkP 101.18–19). He adds to
this riveting introduction, “Hear, illustrious sir, while I relay at length what
you asked, that is, how the Sun became manifest” (raver āvirbhāvo
yathābhavat) (MkP 101.20). It is noteworthy that Mārkaṇḍeya’s pledge to
declare “how the Sun became manifest” here implies that the Sun already
exists in unmanifest form, transcending the various manifestations
discussed in the SM. This corroborates the initial equation of the Sun with
brahman itself at the outset of the discourse.
Mārkaṇḍeya goes on to relay that in the beginning, the world was
enveloped in darkness when into existence sprang an imperishable egg. The
egg split open and within it stood Grandfather Brahmā, the lotus-born
creator of worlds himself (MkP 101.21–22). Out of Brahmā’s mouth issues
forth the cosmic utterance “O”, then bhū
, bhuva
, sva
mystic
utterances expressing the essence of the Sun itself, we are told. All seven of
the vibrational dimensions, in fact, are aspects of the Sun, each more gross
than the one before it: bhū
, bhuva
, sva
, mana
, jana
, tapa
and
satyam. These dimensions oscillate in and out of existence, mere
manifestations of the utterance o, itself the first and the last, the supreme,
sublime, subtle imperishable body of brahman itself (MkP 101.23–27).
2.1.2 The Sun and creation (MkP 102–103)
2.1.2.1 Canto 102: the greatness of the Sun
When the cosmic egg split open, the fourfold Vedas pour forth from the
four-headed creator god, each from one of his four mouths. The g Veda
first emerges from his anterior mouth, then the Yajur Veda from his right
mouth, followed by the Sāma Veda from his posterior mouth, and, finally,
the Atharva Veda springs forth from his left mouth (MkP 102.3–6).
Mārkaṇḍeya further comments on the overall quality (gu
a) of each
compilation (MkP 102.1–7). Each Vedic corpus retains its own effulgence
as before, uniting that effulgence with the supreme primordial effulgence
encompassing the original utterance o
. Thus, the darkness is dispelled
and the universe became completely clear in all directions: upwards,
downwards, outwards. The effulgence of the Vedic meter forms an orb and
joins with that supreme cosmic effulgence. Emanating from Āditya, the
Sun, it serves as the cause of the universe (MkP 102.8–14). After declaring
the times of day auspicious for the recitation of each Vedic corpus (MkP
102.15–18), Mārkaṇḍeya explains that Brahmā is one with the g Veda
hymns at creation, Viṣṇu is one with the Yajur Veda hymns at the time of
preservation, and Rudra (Śiva) is one with the Sāma Veda hymns at the time
of comic dissolution. Moreover, he declares that the Sun is one with all of
the Vedas. The Sun abides in the Vedas, whose very self is Vedic
knowledge, who himself is the supreme Cosmic Man (puru
a uttama).
Therefore, the Sun is the cause of creation, preservation, and destruction:
taking on various qualities (rajas, sattva, etc.), he assumes the appellations
Brahmā, Viṣṇu, and the other gods (MkP 102.19–22). Mārkaṇḍeya
concludes:
Now ever to be praised by the gods is he whose body is the Veda, Yet
who has no body, who was in the beginning, who is embodied in all
mortals; Who is the Light that is the refuge of the universe, who has
righteousness that passes knowledge, Who is to be attained unto in the
Vedanta, supreme beyond things that are sublime!
(MkP 102.22) (Pargiter 1904, 556)
2.1.2.2 Canto 103: Brahmā hymns the Sun
Mārkaṇḍeya continues: When the cosmic egg was heated, engulfed by the
Sun’s effulgence, lotus-born Lord Brahmā, being desirous of creating,
thinks to himself,
My creation although accomplished will assuredly pass to destruction
through the intense glory of the Sun Breathing beings will be bereft
of breath, and the waters will dry up through his glory, and without
water there will be no creation of this universe.2
(MkP 103.2–3)
Thus, ensconced in thought, Lord Brahmā, grandfather of the world,
fixes his mind intently on the blessed Sun and composes the following
hymn (MkP 103.1–4):
Brahma spoke:
5 I pay reverence to thee of whom everything consists
Here, and who consistest of everything;
Whose body is the universe, who art the sublime Light
Whereon religious devotees meditate;
6 Who art composed of the ig hymns, who art the repository of the
Yajus hymns,
And who art the origin of the Saman hymns;
whose power passes thought;
Who consistest of the three Vedas;
who art half a short syllable as touching grossness,
Whose nature is sublime, who art worthy of the fullness of good
qualities.
7 To thee, the cause of all,
who art to be known as supremely worthy of praise,
The supreme Light that was at the beginning,
not in the form of fire;
And who art gross by reason that thy spirit is in the gods
to thee I pay reverence,
The shining one, who wast in the beginning,
the sublimest beyond the sublime!
8 Thine is the primeval power,
in that urged on thereby I achieve this creation,
which is in the forms of water, earth, wind and fire,
Which has those elements, the gods and other beings for its objects,
and which is complete with the word “Om” and other sounds
Not at my own wish;
and that I effect its continuance and dissolution in the self-same
manner.
9 Thou verily art fire.
By reason of thy drying up of the water thou achievest
The creation of the earth and the primeval completion of
the worlds.
Thou indeed, O lord, pervadest the very form of the sky.
Thou in five ways protectest all this world.
10. They who know the Supreme Soul sacrifice with sacrifices
to thee,
Who hast the nature of Vishnu, who consistest of all
sacrifices, O Sun!
And self-subdued ascetics, who curb their souls and
thoughts, meditate
On thee, the lord of all, the supremest, while they desire
final emancipation from existence for themselves.
11 Reverence to thee, whose form is divine;
To thee, whose form is sacrifice, be reverence;
Yea to thee who in thy very nature art the Supreme Spirit,
Who art meditated upon by religious devotees!
12 Contract thy glory, since the abundance of thy glory
Tends to obstruct creation, O lord, and I am ready to begin
creation!
(MkP 103.5–12) (Pargiter 1904, 556–8)
Pleased by the Creators excellent praise, the Sun contracts his colossal
effulgence, retaining but a bit of it. Thus, the illustrious lotus-born Brahmā,
succeeded in creating the world, and just as with ages past proceeds to
create the gods, the demons, and other divine beings, along with mortals,
cattle and other animals, trees, creepers and the hell realms (MkP 103.13–
15).
2.1.3 The Sun and the heavens (MkP 104–105)
2.1.3.1 Canto 104 – Aditi hymns the Sun
Having created the world, as with so many times before, Brahmā proceeds
to properly divide the castes (var
as), the life stages (āśramas), the seas,
the mountains, and the islands. The blessed lotus-sprung god then fixed in
form the abodes of the gods, demons (daitya), serpents (uraga; synonymous
with nāga), and the other beings in accordance with the Vedas (MkP 104.1–
2). Brahmā had a son, the famed Marīci, whose son was Kaśyapa, whose
son in turn was called Kāśyapa (he born of Kaśyapa). Wedding Daka’s
thirteen daughters, Kāśyapa begot many offspring, among them were the
gods, the demons, and the serpents (MkP 104.3–4).
Mārkaṇḍeya proceeds to list the various classes of beings born of
Kāśyapa to each of his thirteen wives (MkP 104.5–10). The most prominent
of these for our purposes are the gods the devas, born of Aditi and the
three classes of demonic beings – the daityas, dānavas and rākakas born of
Diti, Danu and Khasā respectively. The gods were foremost among
Kāśyapa’s sons, made to rule the worlds and partake in the shares of
sacrifice by Brahmā, foremost of those attune to divine knowing (MkP
104.11). The hostile Daityas, Dānavas, and Rākasas teamed up to wage a
war to overthrow the Devas. After 1,000 celestial years, the devas were
defeated, as their Daitya and Dānava stepbrothers ascended to power (MkP
104.12–14).
Aditi beheld her defeated sons, ousted by the Daityas and Dānavas from
dominion over the three worlds, deprived of their share of the sacrifice.
Overcome with grief, she exerted mighty effort to propitiate the Sun.
Fasting and practising self-restraint, she wholly concentrated her mind and
hymned the Sun, that divine orb of light stationed in the sky.
Aditi spoke:
18 Reverence to thee who hast a sublime subtle golden body, O
splendour of those who have splendour, O lord, O repository of
splendours, O eternal one!
19 And the ardent form which thou hast who drawest up the waters for
the benefit of the worlds, O lord of the heavenly cattle, to that I bow
reverently!
20 The most ardent form which thou hast, who bearest the nectar that
composes the moon to take it back during the space of eight months, to
that I bow reverently!
21 The well-fattened form which thou hast, who verily dischargest all
that same nectar to produce rain, to that thy cloud-form be reverence, O
Sun!
22 And that light-giving form of thine, which tends to mature the
whole kingdom
O plants that are produced through the pouring forth of water, to that I
bow reverently!
23 And that form of thine which, when there is excessive cold by
reason of the pouring forth of snow and other causes, tends to nourish
the crops of that winter season to the passing over of that thy form be
reverence!
24 And that form of thine, which is not very ardent and which is not
very cold, and is mild in the season of spring, to that be reverence, O
divine Sun, yea reverence!
25 And thy other form, which fattens both all the gods and the pitis, to
that which causes the ripening of the crops be revenence!
26 That one form of thine which, being composed of nectar for the
vivification of plants, is quaffed by the gods and pitis, to that, which is
the soul of the moon, be reverence!
27 That form of thine which, consisting of the universe, is combined
with Agni and Soma these two forms of the Sun, to that, the soul of
which is the good qualities, be reverence!
28 That form of thine which, named the three-fold Veda by reason of
the unity of the ig, Yajus and Sama Vedas, gives heat to this universe,
to that be reverence, O luminous one!
29 That thy form moreover, which transcends that former one, which is
enunciated by uttering the word “Om”, and which is subtle, endless
and stainless, reverence be to that, the soul of which is Truth!
(MkP 104.18–29) (Pargiter 1904, 560–1)
In this manner, self-restrained, abstaining from food, the goddess
worshipped the Sun day and night (MkP 104.30). After some time, the
blessed Sun made himself visible in the sky to the daughter of Daka. She
beheld a bundle of fiery light both upon the earth and in the sky, difficult to
gaze upon due to its halo of flame. The goddess, emboldened, thus
addresses the Sun:
Be gracious to me, I cannot gaze upon you, O lord of beasts. I first
beheld you, while fasting, standing in the sky, most arduous to gaze
upon. And even now on earth, I behold in you a globe of fire, as
brilliant, as burning as before. Be gracious! Permit me to behold your
form, O Maker of Day. Lord, you who show compassion to you
devotees: I am your devotee; save my sons! (MkP 104.31–34). You are
our soul support: you create the universe; you toil to preserve it; the
universe passed to dissolution within you as well. You are the sole
refuge for the creatures of all the world! (MkP 104.35). You are
Brahmā, you are Viṣṇu, you are Śiva! You are Indra, Kubera, Lord of
Wealth, Yama, Lord of Ancestors, Varua, Lord of waters, and Vāyu
the wind! You are the Moon, Agni (Fire), the lord of the sky, earth, and
oceans! What praise can I offer to you who are the essence and form of
all? (MkP 104.36). You are the lord of the sacrifice: brāhmaas praise
you with various hymns as they conduct their rituals day in and day
out. They who concentrating on you with firmly controlled minds,
established in the state of yoga, attain the most sublime states.
(MkP 104.37)
You warm, ripen, protect and consume the universe. You make
manifest the universe again and again through your water-laden rays
You alone create it as Lotus-Born (Brahmā), protect it as Acyutya
(Viṣṇu), and destroy it at the end of the age as Rudra (Śiva).
(MkP 104.38)
2.1.3.2 Canto 105: the birth of Mārta
ṇḍ
a
Thereupon emerging from the bundle of his own effulgence the Sun
revealed himself to Aditi, appearing like glowing copper. Aditi falls
prostrate before the effulgent Sun, and, upon seeing this, he grants her a
boon of her desiring. Lying yet prostrate with her head on the ground,
pressing her knees into the earth, answers as follows (MkP 105.1–3):
Be gracious, O god! The Daityas and the Dānavas have grown
powerful, snatching the three worlds from my sons, and their shares in
the sacrifice along with it. Therefore, Lord of Rays, show me your
favour in this regard: dispatch a portion of your rays to descend as their
brother to destroy their enemies. You remove the afflictions of
suppliants, you who are known as the preserver of existence (sthiti-
kart). Be gracious, O Sun, and show compassion towards my sons so
that they may again partake of the shares of the sacrifice and once
again become rulers of the three worlds.
(MkP 105.4–7)
Thereupon the blessed Sun, robber of the water, showed favour to the
prostate Aditi, stating: “I will take birth in your womb, Aditi, with my
thousand portions, and swiftly destroy the enemies of your sons!” The
divine Sun vanished from her sight. Having gained her heart’s desire Aditi
ceased her austerities (MkP 105.8–10).
Among the thousand rays of the Sun, the special ray called Suumna
incarnated in the womb of the mother of the gods. With her mind
composed, she undertook the arduous cāndrāyaa penance among other
austerities. Purified, she successfully conceived, knowing her embryo to be
divine. Kaśyapa, ignorant of her boon, asked her in anger: “Why do you
destroy the embryo within you with your incessant fasting?” Aditi replies
“The embryo within me has not been destroyed, you wrathful man! It is
itself meant for the destruction of our enemies!” Angered at her husband’s
words, she then at once gave birth to a child that blazed brilliantly before
them. Seeing that the child shone like the rising Sun, Kaśyapa fell prostrate
and reverently praised him with ancient g Vedic hymns. Being thus
praised, the Sun revealed himself from out of the fetal egg, filling the sky
with his lotus-hued lustre. Then a voice, deep as thunder, issued from the
sky,
Since you speak of this egg (aṇḍa) as destroyed (Māritam), your son
shall be called Mārtaṇḍa (a name of the Sun), he shall wield the Sun’s
power on earth to slay those demons who rob you of your shares of the
sacrifice.
(MkP 105.19–20)
On hearing these sky-born words, the gods assembled, delighted and the
demons were disheartened. Indra, chief of the gods, then challenged the
demons to battle.
The battle between the demons and the gods raged on, all regions made
bright by the lustre ensuing from the clash of their weapons. As soon as
Mārtaṇḍa gazed upon the demons, they were burnt to ashes. Thereat the
gods attained unparalleled delight, hymning both Aditi and effulgent
Mārtaṇḍa. With the gods’ station and sacrificial shares restored, Mārtaṇḍa
exerted his own dominion. Assuming an effulgent form, he became a
spherical ball of fire: displaying his lustre in all directions like petals on the
kadamba flower, he expanded his rays over the heavens and the earth.
2.1.4 The Sun’s family (MkP 106–108)
2.1.4.1 Canto 106: the paring down of the Sun
Viśvakarman fell prostrate to propitiate the Sun Vivasvat before giving him
his daughter, Sajñā, in marriage. Vivasvat begat the Manu Vaivasvata on
Sajñā, described in detail before. Vivasvat, Lord of Rays, actually begot
three children upon Sajñā, two sons and a daughter all told: Manu
Vaivasvata, the eldest, presided over the śrāddhas, then were born the twins
Yama and Yamī. Mārtaṇḍa, with his exceeding effulgence, scorched the
three worlds, to the detriment of all thing, moving and unmoving (MkP
106.1–6). Unable to bear his overbearing form, Sajñā gazes at her own
shadow and says: “Farewell, I am off to my fathers abode! You must
remain here to care for my two sons and beautiful daughter. You do not
reveal any of this to the Sun” (MkP 106.7–8). Her Shadow replies: “Go
where you wish, goddess. I will do as you bid, and keep your confidence,
unto enduring curses, and seizing of my hair!” (MkP 106.9). Sajñā then
went to her fathers abode and having spent a fair bit of time there, her
father advised her again and again to return to her husband. Rather, she
turned herself into a mare and departed for the Northern Kurus, where, as a
chaste wife, she practiced austerities, fasting.
Meanwhile, Chāyā remained faithful to Sajñā’s orders, assuming her
form to wait on the Sun. The Sun begat of Chāyā (thinking it was Sajñā),
another two sons, and another daughter. The first of these was the Manu
Sāvari, and the second son became the planet Saturn. Their daughter,
Tapatī was ultimately chosen in marriage to be the bride of Savaraa,
upon whom he begat the patriarch Kuru. Chāyā was more affectionate with
the younger children, who were her own, and did not show the same
affection to the older three. While Manu tolerated the inequity, Yama could
not. Yama, out of anger and childishness and also due to the pressures of
fate threatened Chāyā–Sajñā with his foot. Full of resentment, Chāyā–
Sajñā cursed Yama proclaiming that the very foot with which he
threatened his fathers wife will fall off.
Agitated by the curse, Yama relayed the situation to his father the Sun.
Though he takes responsibility for the childishness of his actions, he
wonders aloud how a mother could possibly curse her son so, before
beseeching the Sun to intercede and show him favour. The Sun proclaims
that the curse must come to pass, especially the curse of a mother.
Nevertheless, he devises a compromise whereby insects carrying minute
particles of Yama’s foot fall to the earth, therefore both saving Yama’s foot
while fulfilling Chāyā’s curse.
The Sun then confronts Chāyā demanding to know why she favours the
younger children. Moreover, he adds that a proper mother could curse not
even worthless children, inferring, therefore, that she could not possibly be
Sajñā, and that she must be someone put there in Sajñā’s stead. Upon
being confronted, Chāyā, true to her word, gives no response in order to
honour her lady’s request. The Sun resorts to intuitive insight to perceive
the truth of the matter. Seeing that the Sun was about to lay a curse on her,
Chāyā reveals the ruse trembling in fear. Angered, the Sun paid a visit to his
father in law, and, seeing him about to burn him with his wrath,
Viśvakarman explains:
Permeated with surpassing glory is this thy form which is so hardly
endurable; hence Sajña, unable to endure it, practices austerities in
the forest in sooth. Thou shalt now see her, Sir, thy own wife, beautiful
in her behaviour, practicing most arduous austerities in the forest on
account of thy too glorious form. I remember Brahma’s word: if it
please thee, my lord, I will restrain thy beloved form, O lord of heaven.
(MkP 106.36–38) (Pargiter 1904, 569)
The Sun again agrees to being pared down, and the gods praise his glory
while this takes place.
2.1.4.2 Canto 107 – Viśvakarman hymns the Sun
1 While the Sun was being pared down, the Praja-pati Viśva-karman
then uttered this hymn, wherewith his hair stood erect with joy, to the
Sun.
2 “To the Sun, who is compassionate for the welfare of those who fall
prostrate before him, who is great of soul, who has seven equally swift
horses, who has great glory, who awakens the beds of lotuses, who
splits asunder the covering of the veil of darkness, be reverence!
3 To him who works merit through the superabundance of fire, who
gives many objects of desire, who reclines amid beams of radiant fire,
who brings welfare to all the world, be reverence!
4 To the Sun, who is without birth, the cause of the three worlds, the
soul of created beings, the lord of the heavenly cattle, the bull, highest
among those who are greatly compassionate, the home whence the eye
originated, be reverence!
5 To the Sun, who is maintained by knowledge, who is the inmost soul,
the foundation of the world, desirer of the world’s welfare, the self-
existent, the eye of all the worlds, highest among the gods, boundless
in glory, be reverence!
6 Thou, for a moment the crest jewel of the day-spring mountain, the
honoured messenger of the hosts of gods to the world, thou, whose
body consists of a thousand wide-spreading rays of light, shinest on the
world, driving away the darknesses.
7 By reason of thy intoxication from drinking up like spirituous liquor
the darkness of the world, thy body has acquired a deep red hue, O
Sun, so that thou shinest exceedingly with masses of light that calls the
three worlds into life.
8–9 Mounting thy equally proportioned chariot that sways about
gracefully and is widely pleasing, with horses that are ever unwearied”,
O adorable god, thou coursest the broad world for our good.
10 O Sun, thou purifier of the three worlds, protect me, who am
devoted to thy parrot-hued steeds, and who am most pure through the
dust of thy feet, and who am prostrate before thee, O thou who art kind
to folk that bow to thee!
11 Thus to the Sun, who exists as the procreator of all the worlds, who
is the sole cause of the glory that calls the three worlds into life, who
exists as the lamp of all the worlds to thee, O choicest of the thirty
gods, I ever prostrate myself!”
(MkP 107.1–11) (Pargiter 1904, 572–4)
2.1.4.3 Canto 108 – the majesty of the Sun
Having thus chanted the glories of the Sun, Viśvakarman successfully
whittles away fifteenth/sixteenth of his glory, keeping only one-sixteenth
intact in the disc of the Sun. The Sun’s body therefore became beautiful to
behold. With the tejas pared away was fashioned Vinu’s discus, Śiva’s
trident, Kubera’s palki, the rod of the lord of the dead and the spear of the
general of the gods. He also made other brilliant weapons with the Sun’s
excess effulgence, weapons designed for the vanquishing of their foe. Shorn
of his excessive splendour, Mārtaṇḍa was resplendent from limb to limb
(MkP 108.1–6).
Concentrating his mind, the Sun saw that his wife had taken the form of
a mare, made inconceivably beautiful by her penance and self-restraint. The
Sun arrived at the Northern Kurus, and approached his wife, having donned
equine garb. Seeing the equine-Sun approach, and, mistaking him for a
strange male, she met him face to face, intent on guarding her rear. As their
noses joined, the Sun’s tejas passed through his nostrils into the mare,
begetting two gods, the Aśvin twins, Nasatya and Dasra, best of physicians.
These sons of Mārtaṇḍa in equine form were born in the mouth of the
mare. A third god, Revanta, was born at the termination of the Sun’s
(seminal) flow, clad in armour, holding a sword and bow, and a quiver of
arrows and a quiver (MkP 108.7–12). The Sun then revealed his form.
Seeing his new, mild form, Sajñā rejoiced. The Sun, the robber of the
waters, took his loving (prītimatī) wife Sajñā home, who, too, had
assumed her true form (MkP 108.13–14).
The Sun’s first-born son became Manu Vaivasvata. And his second born,
Yama, having suffered through his curse, favoured virtue (dharma), and
became therefore the king of virtue (dharmarājā). With an eye to
righteousness, impartial to friend or foe, the Sun appointed him regent of
the departed souls. Well-satisfied, the Sun made Yamunā a great river. The
great Sun appoints the Aśvin twins physicians to the gods, and Revanta was
appointed as Lord of the Guhyakas, conferring blessing on mankind when
worshipped (MkP 108.20–23).
The son of Sajñā’s Shadow, Sāvari was granted great fame to
become the eighth Manu in future. He presently performs arduous penance
on the summit of Mount Meru. His brother, Śani, became the planet Saturn
according to the Sun’s command. And the Sun’s youngest daughter became
that best of rivers, the Yamunā, which purifies the world (MkP 108.24–26).
2.1.5 The Sun and the earth (MkP 109–110)
2.1.5.1 Canto 109: the citizens hymn the Sun
Krauṣṭuki interjects:
Venerable Sir, though you have already relayed at length the greatness
(māhātmya) of the primeval Sun god (along with the birth of his
exalted offspring), I wish to hear in even greater detail about the Sun’s
greatness (māhātmya), O best of sages. Please tell it to me.
(MkP 109.1–2)
Mārkaṇḍeya responds: “Be it heard then! I tell thee of the majesty of the
primeval god, Vivasvat, what he did formerly when worshipped by
mankind” (MkP 109.3) (Pargiter 1904, 577).
Once there was a famous king, Dama’s son, named Rājya-vardhana.
That lord of the earth well protected his realm. Righteously ruled, the realm,
increased day by day in population and prosperity. While Dama’s son was
king, his citizens joyfully thrived, without impediment, disease, danger
from serpents, or drought. He perfomed grand sacrifices, and gave gifts to
all who asked; he even enjoyed sensory delight without straying from the
path of righteousness (MkP 109.4–8).
While righteously ruling his kingdom, properly protecting his people,
7,000 years passed away as if a single day. One day, his queen, the noble
Māninī, began to weep. After being repeatedly questioned by
Rājyavardhana as to the cause of her distress, she finally confessed she was
weeping because she spotted a gray hair among the king’s ample locks of
hair. With a smile, he addresses his wife, along with the nobles and citizens
gathered at the court, as follows:
Do away with your grief, beautiful lady. Do not weep. All living beings
experience birth, growth, and decline. O lady of finest countenance, I
have studied the Vedas; I have offered thousands of sacrifices; I have
given alms to the brahmans; I have begotten sons; I have enjoyed along
your side pleasures hardly available to most mortals; I have protected
the earth well; I have proven myself in battle; I have laughed with my
beloved friends; I have sported in the midst of the woods. What else is
there left for me to do that you should be frightened by my grey hairs,
my lady? Let my hair become grey! Let wrinkles come, O beautiful
one! Let my body pass into weakness! For, I have been successful, O
Manini! Now that you’ve spotted a grey hair on my head, O lady, then
I shall take leave for the forest. In childhood, one undertakes a child’s
activities; likewise, in youth and in manhood; likewise, yet, does one
resort to the forest in old age. Such was the path of my fore-fathers,
and so too will be my path. I see no reason for tears. Away with your
grief. This grey hair gives me joy, so please do not weep.
The nobles and citizens in attendance showed reverence to the king, as they
address him with conciliatory words. They lament his impending departure
for the forest, and declare they will accompany him and that all sacred rites
will come to a halt once he takes up residence in the forest. They beseech
him to abandon thos course of action since it obstructs dharma
(dharmopadghāthāya). Crucial for our purposes is to note that their
concerns fall squarely within the parameters of prav
tti dharma, spanning
Vedic religious rituals and the institution of kingship. What they say at the
conclusion of their appeal is the smoking ideological gun: the merit he
would earn performing austerities in the forest for the remainder of his life
would be worth only one sixteenth of the merit he has amassed
safeguarding the world as a righteous king. Compare this ratio also to the
fifteen-sixteenths of his power that the Sun gives to Viśvakarman to forge
protective weapons for the gods. Yet, the unabashed prioritization of
prav
tti dharma on behalf of the citizenship, the king must preserve and
personify both strands of dharma’s double helix. He therefore replies in an
ironically sagacious, detached manner explaining to his citizens that he has
already fulfilled his worldly duty (protecting the earth, begetting children),
and now it is his time to heed the message from Death (his gray hair),
install his son as king, abandon worldly pleasures, and head to the forest
(MkP 109.34–37).
In the hope of departing for the forest, the king consulted his court
astrologers for an auspicious time to anoint his son as ruler of the kingdom.
But, on hearing this sad news of the king’s looming departure, they confess
that are too upset to figure out the correct timing. Although they are skilled
and versed with the scriptures, they confess, voices choked by tears, that
their learning has evaporated upon hearing the grievous news. This might
make for an ideal place for erudite exposition on the spiritual imperative to
detach oneself from debilitating emotion (as with the distraught,
disenfranchised merchant and king of the DM who do in fact receive such
teachings), but the MkP has something else in mind, something much more
world-affirming. The masses arrive from far and wide, and, quivering with
emotion, implore their king to be gracious and continue protecting them as
they have been protected in past. They explain that the world will sink
should he renounce, and that they simply cannot bear the thought of a
throne bereft of his royal presence (MkP 109.41–44). Brahmanas, nobles,
ministers all appeal to the king, again and again, but he remains determined
to take up residence in the force, stating that Death would have it no other
way. His ministers, dependants, citizens, brahmans and aged men
assembled together and take counsel, thinking on what must be done.
Devoutly attached to that most righteous king, they resolve to propitiate the
Sun with austerities, and beseech him for the life of the king (MkP 109.45–
49).
Firm in their resolution, they resort to various means of worshipping the
Sun: some make arghya offerings; others recite ig, Yajus and Saman
hymns; abstaining from food, lying down on river sandbanks, weary with
austerities; some performed fire sacrifices, reciting hymns; others stared
directly at the orb of the Sun (MkP 109.50–54). As they strive to worship
the Sun, a gandharva named Sudāman comes by and advised them that the
Sun will become pleased to grant their desires should they worship him in a
forest named Guruviśālā, frequented by the Siddhas, in the very
mountainous Kāmarūpa Mountains. And so, they go there (MkP 109.55–
56). Upon entering the forest, the worshippers find a gorgeous sacred shrine
to the Sun there. Tirelessly fasting, they worshipped there with flowers,
sandal paste, incense, fragrances, food, flame, recitations and sacrificial
oblations; with composed minds, they praised the Sun, worshipping him all
the while (MkP 109.59–61). They offer this hymn to the Sun:
The brahmans spoke:
62 Let us approach the Sun as our refuge, the god who in splendor
surpasses gods, Danavas and Yakshas, the planets, and the heavenly
bodies;
63 the lord of gods, who dwelling also in the sky makes everything
around brilliant, and penetrates the earth and the atmosphere with bis
rays;
64 even him who has the names Aditya, Bhaskara, Bhanu, Saviti,
Divakara, Pushan and Aryaman, Svar-bbanu;
65 him who has flaming rays, who is the fire which shall destroy the
universe at the end of the four-ages, difficult to be gazed at, who
persists to the end of the final dissolution; the lord of yogins, and the
never-ending one; who is red, yellow, white and black;
66 him who dwells in the oblation made to Fire by ishis, and among
the gods of sacrifice; imperishable, sublime, secret, who is the supreme
gate to final emancipation from existence;
67 and who traverses the sky with hymns in the form of horses which
are yoked together at his rising and setting; who is always intent on
circumambulating Meru reverently.
68 And we have sought unto the light-giver, who is not true and yet
true, who is a sacred multiform place of pilgrimage, who is the
permanence of the universe, and is beyond thought;
69 him who is Brahma, who is Siva, who is Vishu, who is Praja-pati;
who is the wind, the atmosphere and water, the earth and its mountains
and oceans;
70 who is the planets, the constellations, the moon and other heavenly
bodies, trees bearing blossom and fruit, other trees and herbs; who sets
in motion righteousness and unrighteousness,’ among created beings,
those which are manifest and those which are not manifest.
71 Brahma’s body, and Śiva’s, and Vishnu’s is the body, of thee, the
Sun, whose special nature is three-fold indeed.
72 May the Sun be gracious! May the Sun, of whom, as lord without
beginning, all this world composes the body, and who is the the life of
the worlds – may he be gracious to us!
73 May the Sun, whose first form is luminous and can hardly be gazed
upon because of its circle of splendour, and whose second form is the
gentle lunar orb – may he be gracious to us!
74 And may the Sun, from those two forms of whom this universe has
been fashioned consisting of Agni and Soma may he, the god, be
gracious to us!”
(MkP 109 62–74) (Pargiter 1904, 581–2)
Once they worshipped him in full faith for three long months, the blessed
Sun is pleased, and descends to display himself before them, in all his
effulgence. The brāhmaas trembled with joy, and, bowing down in
devotion, prostrate before the Sun, declaring: “we bow to you, O thousand-
rayed Sun! Be gracious, o you who are the cause of everything; who are
invoked for protection from harm; who are the site of all sacrifices; who are
meditated upon by the yogis” (MkP 109.75–78).
2.1.5.2 Canto 110. King Rājyavardhana hymns the Sun
Pleased by their worship, the Sun offers them a boon of their choosing, to
which they requested that their king (Rājyavardhana) live 10,000 years, in
good health, vast wealth, perpetual in his youth, and victorious over his
enemies. The Sun grants their boon, and they joyfully reported what
happened to their king (MkP 110.1–6).
Queen Māninī rejoices at the news, though the king ponders it awhile in
silence. Māninī turns to her husband and joyfully exclaims, “How fortunate
is this! May you prosper, my king, with long life!” But the king makes no
reply, his mind numb with thought. She again addresses him, but he is lost
in thought, his head cast down. She asks why he is not happy at this most
fortunate time, given, after all, that he is to live free from sickness, in
enduring youth for 10,000 years (MkP 110.7–12). The king scoffs at her
congratulatory address on the bass that he has actually been granted 1,000
afflictions being made to live on for 10,000 years, forced to watch as
calamity befalls everyone around him. He explains that he will be made to
witness the deaths of sons, grandsons, great-grandsons and indeed all
known relations, servants and friends. There will be no end to his grief;
indeed, he will have to watch die the very same men undertaking penance
for his longevity (MkP 110.13–18).
The SM authors here undertake an incredible manoeuvre, appropriating
the ethos of ‘all is suffering’ innate to niv
tti for the purposes of prav
tti.
The Sun departs for the mountains to undertake austerities and worship the
Sun in search of a remarkable boon.
Since, through his grace, I will live in enduring youth free from
sickness for ten thousand years, I will continue ruling the kingdom
tasting enjoyments with delight if the illustrious Sun grant us this boon:
that all my people, my servants, you, my sons, grandsons and great-
grandsons, and my friends shall also live ten thousand years! If the Sun
does not grant this, Māninī, I will undertake austerities, abstaining
from food until I perish.
(MkP 110.21–26)
The Queen approves and even accompanies him to the mountaintop. They
both enter the same Sun temple where the brāhmaas earned their boon,
and ardently worship the Sun. They become emaciated through their
fasting, practising severe austerities, enduring cold, wind and the Sun’s own
heat. After over a year of such austerities, the Sun is pleased and grants
them the boon they seek, for the welfare of dependants, subjects, citizens
and sons (MkP 110.27–31).
Upon gaining the boon, the king returnes to his city to rule his kingdom
with joy, righteously protecting his people. He performs sacrifices, and
performs charity day and night. Righteous and wise, he enjoys life in
Māninī’s company at the royal court, rejoicing with his sons, grandsons and
descendents, along with his servants and citizens for 10,000 years,
remaining youthful all the while. This tale celebrates the colossal power
wielded by devout worship of the Sun, whereby King Rājyavardhana gains
long-lived prosperity for his people and himself (MkP 110.32–36). Here
ends the SM proper: the remaining verses of the Canto are dedicated to
Mārkaṇḍeya extolling to his audience the merits of reciting the SM (MkP
110.37–43). Moreover, Mārkaṇḍeya commences the following Canto
capping his exposition of the supremacy of the Sun, stating “such is the
power of the divine Sun, without beginning or end, concerning whose
majesty, you had asked. He is the Supreme Soul of the yogis who deeply
contemplate on the state of yoga. He is the ketra-jña among those
Samkhya seekers, and the lord of sacrifices among those who sacrifice.
Brahmā, Vinu and Śiva support his supremacy” (MkP 111.1–3).
Mārkaṇḍeya makes it clear he is moving on to other topics, but not without
auspiciously concluding his monumental homage to the Sun.
2.1.6 The Goddess, the Sun and the story of Sāmba
As outlined in Chapter 1, the quintessential Saura text is the Sāmba
Purā
a, most probably a source of inspiration for the authors of the SM.
The story of Kṛṣṇa’s son Sāmba is perhaps one of the best examples of the
extent to which a characters story (at least in the world of Indian myth)
goes far beyond any one textual account of that story. Rather than residing
in a single text, the story transcends its individual iterations, each of which
serve as snippets of a larger saga, like multiple peepholes towards a drama
too vast to view from a single vantage point. While it is opaque as to why
the Saura authors of ancient India would elect Kṛṣṇa’s son as their
narrative hero, particularly in light of the lunar associations of Kṛṣṇa, there
is a tantalizing Śākta thread to Sāmba’s tale, which is significant for this
study in light of the Saura–Śākta ideological symbiosis it proposes.
The MBh relays the story of Sāmba’s birth in the Anuśāsanaparvan
during a decidedly Śaiva patch of text (13.14–16), one in fact culminating
in the sahasranāmastotra praising Śiva (13.17). Kṛṣṇa performs great tapas
to Śiva in Upamanyu’s Himalayan hermitage in order to obtain a son. He
goes there at the behest of his wife, Jāmbavatī, whose longing for a son was
instigated by her co-wife Rukmiī giving Kṛṣṇa several sons. Pleased by
Kṛṣṇa’s tapas, Śiva appears. But he does not appear alone. Śiva appears
before Kṛṣṇa alongside his feminine consort: there
stood the Lord in his full glory of heat, energy and beauty together with
the Goddess, his blazing wife. There the Holy One, the Great Lord,
shone together with the Goddess like the sun united with the moon in
the midst of a cloud.
(von Simson 2007, 236) (13.15.8–9)
Śiva and the Goddess together appear to grant Kṛṣṇa’s boon. It is in fact
the Goddess who announces that her husband has granted him a son who
will be known as Sāmba (13.16.5). Why would this be? According to von
Simson (von Simson 2007), this “whole arrangement is apparently meant to
give a hint as to the name’s meaning: ‘Sāmba’ can be understood as a
bahuvrīhi compound derived from sa + ambā, meaning ‘(Lord Śiva)
accompanied by the Mother (i.e. his consort Umā)’ (von Simson 2007,
236). The Śiva Purāa’s account of the story of Sāmba in fact makes this
connection even more explicitly, stating that it was ‘Śiva Sāmba’, who
appeared at the end of the rainy season to grant Kṛṣṇa a son subsequently
named Sāmba (von Simson 2007, 236).
Aside from the boon of his birth, the Mahābhārata includes only one
additional episode of this otherwise invisible character. Sāmba plays a key
role in bringing about the fulfillment of Kuntī’s curse, that is, the
destruction of Kṛṣṇa’s entire clan (the Vṛṣṇis). The story runs as follows.
The sages Viśvāmitra, Kava and Nārada visit Dvārakā, home of the
Vṛṣṇis. During their visit, some young men decide to play a prank: they
disguise Kṛṣṇa’s son Sāmba as a woman and present him as the pregnant
wife of one of the other men, Babhru. They have the audacity to ask the
sages after the nature of Sāmba’s unborn child. In response, they receive a
curse, that is, that Sāmba will birth an iron club, which will lead to the
destruction of the Vṛṣṇis (MBh 16.2.4–9).
Georg von Simson examines Sāmba’s association with lunar mythology.
Sāmba can also be considered as related to Soma (the moon, and Sa Umā),
again invoking the interplay of Śiva “with the Goddess”. Sāmba, the son of
the lunar lord Kṛṣṇa, himself represents Sun conjoined the Moon, or a time
of New Moon. His birth was the result of a blessing of Lord Śiva who
appeared alongside the Goddess (sā+ambā=sāmba). Moreover, Sāmba loses
his lustre (to leprosy) and regains it from the Sun in the Sāmba Purā
a, like
the moon passing from newness to fullness during its waxing cycle.
According to von Simson:
All this confirms our hypothesis that Sāmba represents the conjunction
of sun and moon at the new-moon period. This is the point when the
sun has withdrawn its splendour (light) from the moon, or, in terms of
the myth, Sāmba is struck by leprosy. Correspondingly, the sun is about
to start casting its splendour upon the moon again, meaning that Sāmba
has to win the sun god’s favour to get rid of the disease.
(von Simson 2007, 245)
That the quintessential Saura Purā
a revolves around the story of Sāmba
can by no means be insignificant. There are no shortage of solar stories in
Vedic and epic lore from which they could have drawn. The fact that they
chose the product of Śiva “accompanied by the Goddess” (Sāmba) as their
mythological calling card seems to add credence to an interplay between
Goddess and Sun in ancient times. However, circumstantial the evidence is
here connecting Śākta and Saura traditions through the story of Sāmba, one
cannot dismiss the glaring parallels in the two māhātmyas of the MkP,
discussed below.
2.2 Saura–Śākta symbiosis
There are a number of intriguing parallels between Mārkaṇḍeya’s Saura
māhātmya and its Śākta counterpart. With respect to form, the glorification
of the Goddess assembled into the MkP’s manvantara section occupies
precisely one fourth of its allotted cantos (see Table 2.3).3
Table 2.3
Table 2.4
The Manu-intervals (manvantaras) of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Purā
a
Canto MV Subsection Manu
53 1st MV Svāyambhuva
54–60 Geography NA
61–68 2nd MV Svārocia
69–73 3rd MV Auttama
74 4th MV Tāmasa
75 5th MV Raivata
76 6th MV Cākua
77–79 7th MV Vaivasvata
80 8th MV Sāvari (Sūrya)
81–93 Devī Māhātmya NA
94 (4–10) 9th MV Sāvari (Daka)
94 (11–16) 10th MV Sāvari (Brahmā)
94 (17–21) 11th MV Sāvari (Dharma)
94 (22–31) 12th MV Sāvari (Rudra)
95–98 13th MV Raucya
99–100 14th MV Bhautya
The royal dynasties (va
śānucarita) of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Purā
a
Canto V Subsection King
101.1–8 V INTRO
101.9–110 SM NA → Rājyavardhana
11–136 V Several
This makes for an intriguing parallel: the glorification of the Sun
‘interrupts’ the MkP’s genealogy section (directly following the
manvantara section), also occupying precisely one fourth of its respective
chapters (see Table 2.4).4
The Purāas claim that their genre is distinguished by “five marks”
(pañcalak
a
as) as indicated by the fifth-century Sanskrit lexicon,
Amarakośa. While the Amarakośa does not specifically indicate what these
five distinguishing features are, several Purāas detail the “five marks” to
be: sarga (creation or evolution of the universe), pratisarga (re-creation of
the universe after its periodic dissolution), va
śa (genealogies of gods,
patriarchs, sages, and kings), manvantara (“Manu-intervals” cosmic
cycles each of which is presided over by a Manu, a primordial patriarch),
and va
śānucarita (accounts of royal dynasties) (Coburn 1985, 21).
The MkP provides an account of Manu-intervals (manvantaras)
intervals of cosmic time over which a primordial patriarch, a Manu, rules
supreme. There are fourteen Manu-intervals of each cosmic cycle (kalpa),
and we are currently in the reign of the seventh Manu, Vaivasvata. Each
manvantara takes the name of its presiding Manu, thus the current age is
known as the vaivasvata-manvantara, the age of the primordial patriarch,
Vaivasvata. Sāvari is destined to be the future Manu of the next age of this
cycle of creation. The tales of the Goddess are therefore part of the story of
Sāvari, who is destined to be the future Manu of the next age of this cycle
of creation.
Furthermore, each māhātmya contains four hymns to its respective deity,
followed by a phalaśruti section occurring beyond the fourth and final
hymn in each case. While the fact that each māhātmya is spurred on by the
intrigue of a questioner is ubiquitous for its genre (in the case of the DM,
King Suratha questions Sage Medhas, while in the case of the SM,
Krauṣṭuki questions Sage Mārkaṇḍeya), what is noteworthy is the fact that
each interlocutor interjects to request further details, which succeeds in
calling forth the final episode in each case. In the case of the SM,
Krauṣṭuki interjects to ask for more details as follows:
Adorable Sir! Thou has well declared the birth of the Sun’s offspring,
the majesty of the primeval god and his nature at very full length.
Nevertheless I desire, O best of munis, to hear more about the Sun’s
majesty comprehensively; deign therefore with favour to tell me of it.
(MkP 109.1) (Pargiter 1904, 577)
Mārkaṇḍeya responds: “Be it heard then! I tell thee of the majesty of the
primeval god, Vivasvat, what he did formerly when worshipped by
mankind” (MkP 109.3) (Pargiter 1904, 577). Similarly, in the DM, Suratha
interjects (89.1–2):
It is simply wonderful that you, O blessed one, have told me this
Māhātmya of the Goddess’s activity connected with the slaying of
Raktabīja. I want to hear more, about what Śumbha and the outraged
Niśumbha did when Raktabīja was killed.
(Coburn 1991, 68)
In the case of Krauṣṭuki’s interjection, it occurs at a natural break in the
narrative, where not only has an entire episode been completed, but one
could understand why Krauṣṭuki would get the impression that
Mārkaṇḍeya was done with glorifying the Sun since he finishes the last
episode with a mini-phalaśruti as follows: “This story of the majesty of the
primeval god, the high-souled Mārtaṇḍa, when listened to, quells the sin
that has been committed by day or night” (MkP 108.29) (Pargiter 1904,
576). In the case of Suratha’s interjection, however, Medhas is in the middle
of the greater episode of the tyranny of Śumbha and Niśumbha, having only
completed a sub-episode of the slaying of Raktabīja. There is no indication
that Medhas would not have gone on anyhow, and I have therefore long
been puzzled by the presence of the seemingly entirely superfluous
interjection. It must serve some purpose in advancing the narrative, because
the speaker is already in medias res of his narrative, so it makes little sense
that he would be interrupted to continue it. I would like to suggest that
while Suratha’s interjection serves no particular purpose with respect to the
narrative unfolding of the DM, it does serves a purpose with respect to
mirroring the form of the SM. Regardless of this potential causal
relationship, these interjections occur between the third and fourth hymn of
their respective māhātmya.
Even more so than their formal features, the content of each of these
māhātmyas bespeaks of an intended parity between Sun and Goddess. First,
there is a movement among the episodes descending from the cosmic
sphere at the time of creation, to the heavenly sphere, to the terrestrial
sphere which is mirrored in each. The first portion of each māhātmya
establishes the cosmic supremacy of its respective deity insofar as Brahmā
himself praises each deity as a self-existent supreme cosmic principle,
invoking them for the sake of preserving the universe. This is followed in
each text by its deity being called upon to save the gods of heaven. In the
SM, we are told that since the gods (devas) “were vanquished for a
thousand divine years, and the powerful daityas and dānavas were
victorious” (MkP 104.14) (Pargiter 1904, 560), that Aditi, the mother of the
gods, “seeing her sons cast out and robbed of the three worlds by the
Daityas and Danavas and deprived of their shares of sacrifices, was
exceedingly afflicted with grief, and made the utmost efforts to propitiate
the Sun” (MkP 104.15) (Pargiter 1904, 560). She earns a boon by hymning
the Sun, and asks that he be born in her womb so as to aid his then would-
be brothers, the gods, in gaining victory. As with the DM, it is necessary to
contextualize this second episode (where the Sun takes birth in Aditi’s
womb at her behest) with the first episode so that we properly understand
that the Sun here is being manifested, not created. But this clarity would be
obscured were it not to follow episode one which unambiguously
establishes the Sun a status beyond birth and death. The same is true in
Episode II of the DM where one would think that the goddess was actually
being “created” by the gods (since she emerges from the fire of their wrath),
rather than merely manifesting therefrom. Both texts include this “heavenly
throne” episode (in the DM, the Devī again saves the gods from perilous
demons, and in the SM, we hear of the episode of the solar family as
occurring in 78 and 79), before concluding by reestablishing the reign of an
earthly king – Rājyavardhana in the SM and Sauratha in the DM.
That Goddess and Sun readily stand to represent preservation is fairly
intuitive, and has been specifically argued herein. What is most crucial for
our purposes is that their commitment to preservation is expressed not only
in their personal acts of cosmic protection and governance, but in their
consecration of kings, earthly emblems of preservation. As such, both DM
and SM conclude with coronations: both moved by the steadfast austerities
of their respective devotees, the Goddess restores the sovereignty of King
Suratha in the DM, and the Sun restores the reign of King Rājyavardhana5
in the SM. The latter of these kings deserves special attention at this
juncture, for his plight (and the boon counteracting that plight) is most
unusual, and most telling indeed. After reigning prosperously, and
protecting the earth for 7,000 years, King Rājyavardhana’s Queen, Mānini,
finds a grey hair upon his head (which in classical Indian treatises signals
that a householder should retreat to the forest to commence his forest-
hermit stage of life) and she therefore greatly laments. The king stoically
reminds her that they have been quite prosperous and pious, and that death
is inevitable, and she should not weep. The citizens, too, protest at their
pending loss of a king (though Rājyavardhana has an heir who he would
happily install). The entire citizenry take to propitiating the Sun in order
that King Rājyavardhana may have an increased life span and after three
months of their collective penance, the Sun appears and grants them a boon,
to which they ask, “if thou art pleased with our faith, then let our king live
ten thousand years, free from sickness, victorious over his enemies, rich in
his treasury, and with firmly-enduring youth! May Rājyavardhana live ten
thousand years!” (MkP 110.3–4) (Pargiter 1904, 583–4). The Sun of course
grants the boon and then it is the king’s turn to lament that he should greatly
outlive all of his loved ones, and generations of his descendants, and suffer
bitterly for it. Rājyavardhana then resolves to journey to the mountains and
practice austerities to earn from the Sun the boon that the entire kingdom
should also live 10,000 years. After over a year of penance, the Sun grants
the king’s wish, and he lives happily ever after for 10,000 years.
This episode pays no attention to the fact that all invoked would
theoretically end up in exactly the same turmoil in 10,000 years as they did
at the beginning. It is so intent on celebrating life, that it glosses over the
inevitability of death. It is an unabashed homage to prav
tti, eclipsing the
wisdom of niv
tti religion. To touch upon a real-life correlate, when one
decides to acquire a pet, one knows within them that the pet is not
immortal, and that in all probability, will predecease its owner. Yet, one
finds it worthwhile to indulge the desire to enjoy whatever time might be
allotted with the pet, irrespective of the price one incurs through suffering
the inevitable loss of that pet. Likewise, the austerities of king and citizenry
alike are worth the temporary respite from the clutches of death. It is a
tributary which sings with abandon the praises of preservation, and the
enjoyment of life in this world, as represented by the preservation of king,
kingdom, and citizenry. Rājyavardhana literally translates to “Increased
Sovereignty”,6 a sovereignty to be increased by 10,000 years to be exact.
But his tale not only serves to augment the length of one of the kings in the
solar dynasty, but also serves to increase the appreciation of prav
ttic
esteem for all things worldly, hoisting it, in this case, to a status more
coveted than life everlasting a la niv
ttic liberation. Thus, the
Rājyavardhana episode adorns the SM as its terminal frame, which itself
(along with the DM) serves to celebrate (necessarily temporary)
preservation, rather than transcendence of this realm, and befits the
discourse of Mārkaṇḍeya, the only known embodied being to be preserved
in flesh within this realm across the cosmic cycles of creation and
destruction.
The association between these two māhātmyas of the MkP is undeniable,
and attests to an affinity between the ways in which they portray their
objects of laudation. Goddess and Sun are united insofar as their respective
grandeurs serve as fonts of universal preservation, but in excess, their might
becomes dangerous to the point of imperilling the world that they create.
Like the Indian king, the Sun is life-giving and supportive, but so
overpowering, that one can barely withstand the direct sight of it. Thus,
though “this universe became most stainless then through the sudden
destruction of darkness” (MkP 102.12) (Pargiter 1904, 555) because of the
fire of the Sun, it is that same light which causes Brahmā to think to
himself, while creating the universe, “My creation although accomplished
will assuredly pass to destruction through the intense glory of the Sun”
(MkP 103.12) (Pargiter 1904, 556), and so resolves to hymn the Sun, in the
final verse of which he requests: “Contract thy glory, since the abundance
of thy glory tends to obstruct creation, O lord, and I am ready to begin
creation!” (MkP 103.12) (Pargiter 1904, 558). Sūrya’s excessive power in
the form of his tejas needs to be subdued at the behest of Brahmā, Aditi,
and Viśvakarman. But this excessive tejas, upon being pared down, is
harnessed for the welfare of the universe in the crafting of divine
weaponry.7 By Mastsunami’s count, this solar story occurs at a staggering
sixteen Purāic junctures alone (Matsunami 1977, 218–19),8 not counting
the Mahābhārata and later literature. What he says of the MkP is most
telling:
the Mārkaṇḍeya Purāa has the peculiarity of introducing in the
middle of this legend lauds in praise of the Sun, an addition that seems
to be based on devotion. The beginning of the legend seems to be lost
in this Purāa, and generally there are many lacunae if compared with
the other Purāas.
(Matsunami 1977, 222)
In examining “the myth” out of context, he loses sight of the brilliant
manner in which the MkP harnesses this solar story.
Let us unpack the concept of tejas”, which is crucial not only to the
narrative unfolding of the myth but to the essence, and ironically, to the
inimicality of the Sun. Deriving from the verbal root tij to “be or become
sharp” (Monier-Williams et al. 2008) the sharpness (tejas) of the Sun
carries with it, in Sanskrit, similar connotations as in English, namely,
sharpness of visual appearance, along with sharpness of personality. As
such, it may mean “splendor”, “fiery energy”, along with “impatience,
fierceness, energetic opposition” (Monier-Williams et al. 2008). Similarly,
the adjective tīk
ṣṇ
a, derived from the same verbal root, may mean, for
example, sharp, hot, or vehement. Regarding its laudatory dimension, tejas
(of which the Sun has plenty) may also connote “spiritual or moral or
magical power or influence, majesty, dignity, glory, authority” (Monier-
Williams et al. 2008). While the Sun-god, Sūrya, has several epithets even
in Purāic times (e.g. Āditya, Bhāskara, Bhānu, Savit, Divakara, Pūshan
and Aryamān, Svarbhānu are listed at MkP 109.64), this myth is tied
specifically to the Sun’s identity as Vivasvat. Both his first son and our age
(named after that Manu) are known as Vaivasvata, “of Vivasvat”. Hence,
we are currently residing in the Vaivasvata Manvantara, The Manu-Epoch
of Vivasvat. It might be worthwhile then, to come to know the meaning of
Vivasvat. According to Monier-Williams, Vivasvat specifically translates in
general as “shining forth, diffusing light”, and in specific reference to the
epithet of the Sun, as “The Brilliant One”. It should come as no surprise
that this myth is concerned with the lustre and thus illustriousness, of the
Sun.
This notion of tejas is also directly tied to classical Indian discourse of
kingship, therefore solidifying the association between solar and sovereign.
According to Manu “like the sun among the gods in the celestial regions
which destroys darkness by its tejas (brilliance-and-energy), the king
(among men) eradicates sin from the earth.” Manu further states that
“nobody on earth is able even to gaze at him” (Gonda 1969, 25). Further
still, “like the sun he possesses tejas, the supranormal principle of might,
which enables him to perform great exploits” (Gonda 1969, 26). In episode
II of the DM, the Goddess is said to derive from the tejas of the assembly of
gods which is clearly mirrored by Manu’s mythic account of the birthing of
the primordial king; again born of the tejas of the gods. During this
encounter, when all of the gods were bequeathing the Goddess with their
weaponry, we are told that “the sun put his own rays into all the pores of her
skin” (DM 2.23; see Coburn 1991, 41), which presumably would accord her
with a lustre comparable to his own, one which is powerful and captivating,
but dangerous to engage head-on. That the Goddess is associated with the
kingly notion of tejas is hardly surprising given her role firstly as universal
sovereign, and second, as one who safeguards and consecrates the office of
the king in both heavenly and terrestrial realms. The DM casts the Goddess
as sovereignty incarnate; that supreme power of preservation which gods
and rulers borrow for the sake of protecting and supporting the cosmos and
this world.9
The destructive imagery of the Sun is echoed in the story of the Sun’s
charioteer, Arua, relayed in the Mahābhārata. The Mahābhārata narrates
the tale of the co-wives of Kaśyapa, the daughters of Brahmā Kadrū and
Vinatā. Having both been granted boons by Kaśyapa, Kadrū those 1,000
serpent sons whole Vinatā chose two sons, each possessing the strength of
Kadrū’s sons. Kadrū laid 1,000 eggs, while Vinatā laid two, each tended for
500 years at which point Kadrū’s sons came forth. Envious and impatient,
Vinatā prematurely cracked open one of her eggs in which she found a son,
Arua, whose upper body was formed, and lower body yet unformed. The
son then cursed Vinatā to be enslaved to Kadrū for another 500 years, to be
freed by the offspring of the second egg, Garua, who would be invincible
unless she prematurely terminates his gestation as well. Upon cursing
Vinatā, Arua then flies up to the heavens to serve as Sūrya’s charioteer,
himself the red dawn personified (MBh 1.14). Garua emerges from his
shell “ablaze like a kindled mass of fire” growing in power so as to terrify
the gods with his fiery presence that the gods mistake him for fire itself.
One line of the gods’ subsequent praise of Garua reads: “Just as the
wrathful sun may burn the creatures./Thus dost thou devour them like the
fire of sacrifice” (MBh I.20.12) (van Buitenen 1973, I: 78). And when he
had been praised by the Gods and the hosts of seers, he withdrew his heat.
Twice during the DM, the imagery of the Sun is invoked to represent
weaponry. During Episode II’s climactic battle between the Devī and
Mahīa, the great demon hurls a flaming weapon at the Goddess “as if it
were the disc of the sun with shimmerings from the sky” (DM 3.8; see
Coburn 1991, 45). Similarly, while Kālī (shortly after her first appearance
in the text) engages the demons Caṇḍa and Muṇḍa, they launch a fury of
arrows which “resembled a multitude of suns entering into the middle of
[the] black cloud” of her gaping mouth (DM 7.17) (Coburn 1991, 62). We
also hear of fire-clad weaponry, reminiscent of the Sun: “the spear that was
released by Śumbha as he approached, terrible with its flames, Coming on
like a great fire mass, that spear she hurled down with her firebrand.” (DM
9.23) It is noteworthy that in all three of these instances, the weapons being
launched are on behalf of the demonic forces, underscoring not only their
power, but also their danger. These weapons represent the disruption of the
cosmic order, which the Sun in its benign form ironically, is understood to
uphold. It is telling that in his exploration of the epithet Caṇḍī as the angry,
terrible or passionate one, the great DM commentator Bhāskararāya “notes
how such language is conventionally used to talk about that which
overwhelms, such as the terrible summer sun” (Coburn 1991, 134). This is
also reminiscent of the fiery imagery of Durgā we see in Taittirīya
Ārayaka 10 (duplicated in g Vedic Khila, Rātrī Sūkta 4.2.13) as follows:
In her who has the color of Agni,
flaming with ascetic power (tapas),
the offspring of Virocana (vairocani)
who delights in the fruits of one’s actions.
In the goddess Durgā do I take refuge;
O one of great speed, (well) do you navigate.
Hail (to you)!
(Coburn 1985, 119)
In the climactic portion of Episode III, when the Goddess succeeds in
defeating the great demon Śumbha, the text tells us that “The flaming
clouds of portent that formerly had gathered became tranquil, And rivers
once again flowed within their banks” (DM 10.24; see Coburn 1991, 73).
The death of demonic discord (as personified by the tyrannical asura)
coincides with the restoration of harmony, a time when the “whole universe
became soothed, regaining its natural condition once more, and the sky
became spotless” (DM 10.25; see Coburn 1991, 73). This moment of
cosmic relief occasioned the joyous outpourings of song and dance on
behalf of the celestial beings. Then “favorable winds began to blow, and the
sun shone brilliantly [and] the sacred fires blazed peacefully” (DM 10.27–
28) (Coburn 1991, 73). While the destructive imagery of fire is invoked by
the flaming clouds of portent, once balance was restored, the sky became
spotless, and the Sun here used as the symbol of preservation and order
shone brightly. The restoration of balance represented by the shining Sun is
mirrored in the line immediately following it, by the peacefully blazing
ritual fires.
With respect to the relationship between tejas and the Goddess herself,
we encounter an inversion in the DM: while the Sun’s tejas creates weapons
for the gods, it is the gods’ tejas which creates weapons for the Goddess in
the DM. The inverted motif of excessive tejas is also used in the
manifestation of the Devī herself. At the beginning of Episode II, the host
of gods, cast out of heaven by Mahīa and his demon hordes, complain to
Viṣṇu and Śiva from whose anger-knitted brows great tejas emerges. This
tejas, combined with that emitted from the bodies of all of the gods,
coalesces to form the luminous form of the Devī herself. The momentous
passage reads:
And from the bodies of the other gods, Indra and the others,
Came forth a great fiery splendor, and it became unified in one place.
An exceedingly fiery mass like a flaming mountain
did the gods see there, filling the firmament with flames.
That peerless splendor, born from the bodies of all the gods.
Unified and pervading the triple world with its lustre, became a
woman.
(DM 2.10–12) (Coburn 1991, 40)
And this inversion points to a greater inversion implicated in how the Sun
and Goddess themselves are construed.
These glorifications not only run parallel to each other, but also serve as
composite tales of the interplay and potency of shadow and light. These
māhātmyas are the inverse of each other in much the same way that Chāyā
is the inverse of Sajñā, or as Twilight is the inverse of Dawn. While, in
the inaugural episode of the Sūrya Māhātmya, the universe is imperiled by
the Sun’s unbearable brilliance, in the case of the DM, it is imperiled by the
Goddess’ darkness of sleep over the eyes of Viṣṇu. And while the wrath of
the Sun is expressed through his overbearing fire, the excessive power of
the Devī is personified in her wrathful, destructive, shadow-ego, Kālī, the
Dark One herself. In both cases, the powerful aspects of these deities which
threaten the universe, and Brahmā must subdue at the dawn of creation
(splendour for the Sun and darkness for the Goddess), menacingly rise up in
subsequent episodes in their māhātmyas. The artistry of vision on behalf of
the authors of the DM is exhibited in their ability to articulate the
paradoxical totality of the Goddess, who, unlike the Sun, requires not
consorts to express her powers of illumination and occlusion alike, and
requires no separate agency to neutralize her volatile aspect; Kālī is always
neatly folded back into the contained persona of Durthroughout the DM.
It is the Sun’s sharp brilliance, which causes Sajñā to leave, casting her
shadow behind her a shadow which cannot exist without the light of the
Sun. The mythology of Sūrya is so crucial to the text that the frame
narrative of the king in the forest is itself framed by this story of Sūrya;
every single manuscript of the DM, including the ones which circulate
independently of their Purāic contexts, refer to Sūrya in their very first10
and very last verses.11 Recall that the opening verse refers to how Sāvari
was blessed to become sovereign of an age by the power of Mahāmāyā (the
‘great illusion’), which may be understood to correlate to his birthmother,
Chāyā (‘shadow’), as both of these manifestations representing the
Goddess’ aspect of occlusion. But insofar as the Goddess is supreme, she
also can be said to present Sāvari’s sovereign progenitor, Sūrya,
reconfigured in the MkP to represent the sole universal power. She thus
exalts King Suratha in the closing frame of the DM to the rank of Manu
through a future birthing, through the pair of opposites which She
paradoxically embodies: darkness and light, fire and shadow.
The Goddess of the DM represents profound ambivalences, and yet
ambivalence, by nature, encompasses a greater scope than uniformity
possibly can. For any given attribute, an opposite may be conceived. To
express totality is to express paradox of combined opposites as only
narrative can. Omni-benevolence and omni-malevolence are individually
limited concepts. To be all powerful, one must be able to be both of these,
and even beyond both of these. Insofar as the project of DM and SM alike
are to represent the totality of the powers that be in a single personality of
godhead, they must equip that personality with expressions of the dual
aspects of the universe, good and evil, shadow and light. Hence the Sun’s
two śaktis (each equally as aspects of his own nature), and the Goddess’
dual nature: if she is the Mahādevī, she must also be Mahāsurī. Her
greatness would be curtailed if described as one and not the other. Sajñā
and Chāyā are one, though viewed from different perspectives.
Furthermore, while the Sun requires two consorts to represent this profound
ambivalence, the Goddess does not. The female consort represents the
power which is possessed by the male god. Yet, to be equated with the total
sum of all power is to be necessarily distanced from possessors of power.
For both the possessor and the power he possesses is limited. No matter
how large a vessel, it may only contain the ocean of power in limited
capacity. That ocean will manifest in a form sufficiently powerful to surpass
the strength of any given possessor of power. Therefore, the Goddess of the
DM is not only the mother of power insofar as she is all-powerful, but
insofar as she constitutes power itself. She is one and the same as the
universal field of power from which all beings, benevolent and malevolent
alike, draw for their respective purposes.
The SM teaches that the sole universal principle, though eternal and the
source of all life, fathers not only humankind, but also fathers death.
Though the nature of the Sun is fundamentally a supporting, luminous one,
in order for his supremacy to be expressed, he must also be the creator of
both shadow and death. Likewise, the Goddess of the DM is described both
as the Great Goddess and the Great Demoness, as the power of confusion
and clarity, bondage and liberation alike. In light of this parity between
Goddess and Sun, the MkP can render the essential nature of the Goddess
as a dark one no more than it can do so for the Sun. The stories of both
deities entail the interplay between darkness and light, but it is abundantly
clear the figures central to each of these myths are overarchingly celebrated
as keepers of order, as sources of light. Let us therefore be reminded that
the third set of twins to be birthed in the solar saga are the divine aśvins,
appointed as celestial physicians. The Sun, ultimately concerned with the
preservation of mortal beings, also fathers medicine, along with death.
Furthermore, both myth cycles are explicitly tied to earthly sovereignty
insofar as the DM concludes with the restoration of the earthly sovereignty
of King Suratha, and so too, at the end of the Sūrya Māhātmya, we hear of
King Rājyavardhana’s kingdom restored by the grace of the Sun. While
Goddess, King and Sun all possess fierce, dangerous, foreboding aspects,
their central purpose is the work of preserving the welfare of gods and
humans alike. And what better place to house such tales than in a
compendium like the MkP, which remind us at its very inception that the
purpose of Viṣṇu taking on human form is so that he may engage in the
compassionate work of preservation.
Table 2.5
1
2
3
4
5
Sūrya Māhātmya episode chart
Sajñā is the daughter of Tvaṣṭṛ, also known as Viśvakarman, the divine architect-tinkerer
figure who roughly correlates to Hephaestus of the Grecian mythological heavens.
The Harivaśa also tells this story (Brodbeck 2019, 25–8) with this following twist:
Because of his innate fiery energy, Mārtaṇḍa Āditya’s body had in act been born with its
limbs burned right off, and it really didn’t look too good. Kashyapa, who didn’t know what
had happened, said out of affection: “This child can’t be dead (mta) while he’s still in the egg
(aṇḍa).” That’s why Kashyapa’s son is called Mārtaṇḍa Dead-Egg. But Kashyapa’s son
Vivasvat always had an extraordinary quanity of fiery energy, my boy, and he used it to roast
the three worlds (8.3–5).
(Brodbeck 2019, 25)
A couple key differences in this telling are its Tvaṣṭṛī who recommends the Sun is pared down
(8.31), and that he uses the excess energy to craft Viṣṇu’s discus (8.45).
See Pargiter 1904. The Manu section occupies forty-eight chapters (Chapters 53–100) of which
twelve (Chapters 81–92) are dedicated to relaying the glorious exploits of the Goddess, while
Canto 93 tells us of the fate of Suratha, see Appendix 5.3.
See Pargiter 1904. The genealogies section occupies thirty-six chapters (Chapters 101–136) of
which nine (Chapters 102–110) are dedicated to glorifying the Sun proper, while Chapter 101
introduces the genealogies. For the hymn-cantos in isolation, see Appendix 5.3.
Rājyavardhana is actually the son of Dama, whose exploits conclude the genealogy section. It
is, therefore, Rājyavardhana’s, and not Dama’s, exploits who comprise the tail end of the
exploits of solar kings to be found in the MkP. And yet, the exploits of Rājyavardhana are not
6
7
8
9
10
11
found where one would expect (immediately following those of his father Dama), but rather,
were assembled as the terminal frame of the SM, serving to showcase Sūrya’s role in the
expanse of the sovereignty of the solar line of kings, and the affirmation of longevity and life
on earth. This is dually useful insofar as it allows the discourse to end with the exploits of
Dama, which make for an excellent terminal frame of the MkP as a whole.
Rājya can also mean the actual kingdom, and so this epithet can also mean increased kingdom.
This connotation is supported by the Vāyu Purāa, wherein, as Pargiter notes, “Rajya-vardhana
is called ṣṭhra-vardhana” (Pargiter 1904, 577), and ṣṭra refers more the physical realm
under the sway of sovereignty rather than sovereignty itself. The name Rājya-vardhana can also
be taken as a bahuvrīhi compound meaning “He whose kingdom prospers. ”
As Desai writes:
from the pared off lustre, Tvaṣṭṛ made the weapons of gods, e.g. he made Śiva’s trident,
Viṣṇu’s discus, Vasus śakus, Agni’s spear, Kubera’s palanquin, Yama’s rod and Kārtikeya’s
spear. He also made brilliant weapons of other gods, Yakas, Vidyādharas etc.
(Desai 1968, 163)
These are: Brahmā Purā
a VI.1–52; Brahmā
ṇḍ
a Purā
a II.59.33.84; Vāyu Purā
a
LXXXIV.32–84; Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a CIII.3–CV.46; Bhavi
ya Purā
a I.79.17–81; Matsya
Purā
a XI.1–39; Padma Purā
a V.8.35–74; I.8.36–75; Kūrma Purā
a I.20.1–4; Li
ga
Purā
a LXV.2–16; Vi
ṣṇ
u Purā
a III.2.2–13; Bhāgavata Purā
a IX.1.10–11; Varāha Purā
a
XX.5–19; Agni Purā
a CLXXIII.2–4; Gaur
a Purā
a CXXXVIII.2–3; Hariva
śa I.9.1–64;
Śiva Purā
a (upapurāa) V.35.1–41.
The association between Goddess and king is explored in detail in section titled “The Safeguard
of Sovereignty”.
“Sāvari, the son of the Sun, will become Lord of the next Age./Hear as I relay his rise at
length,/How by the grace of Mahāmāyā that illustrious son of the Sun,/Became Lord of an
Age” (DM 1.1–2) (Balkaran 2020).
“Thus receiving a boon from the Goddess, Suratha, best of rulers,/Will receive another birth
from the Sun, and/will become Sāvari, Manu of the next Age” (DM 13.18) (Balkaran 2020).
Works cited in this chapter
Balkaran, Raj. 2019. The Goddess and The King in Indian Myth: Ring Composition, Royal Power,
and the Dharmic Double Helix. London: Routledge.
Balkaran, Raj. 2020. “A Tale of Two Boons: The Goddess and the Dharmic Double Helix”. In The
Purā
a Reader, edited by Deven Patel and Dheepa Sundaram. San Diego: Cognella Academic
Publishing.
Brodbeck, Simon. 2019. Krishna’s Lineage: The Harivamsha of Vyāsa’s Mahābhārata. New York:
Oxford University Press.
Buitenen, J.A.B. van. 1973. Mahābhārata: Book 1: The Book of the Beginning. Vol. I. Chicago, IL:
University of Chicago Press.
Coburn, Thomas B. 1985. Devī Māhātmya: The Crystallization of the Goddess Tradition. Columbia,
MO: South Asia Books.
Coburn, Thomas B. 1991. Encountering the Goddess: A Translation of the Devī-Māhātmya and a
Study of Its Interpretation. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.
Desai, Nileshvari Y. 1968. Ancient Indian Society, Religion, and Mythology as Depicted in the
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya-Purā
a; a Critical Study. Baroda: Faculty of Arts, M.S. University of Baroda.
Gonda, Jan. 1969. Ancient Indian Kingship from the Religious Point of View. Leiden: Brill.
Matsunami. 1977. “A Preliminary Essay in Systematic Arrangement of the Purāas with Special
Reference to the Legend of Yama’s Birth”. Purā
a 29 (1): 214–32.
Monier-Williams, Ernst Leumann, Carl Cappeller, and Īśvaracandra. 2008. “Monier Williams
Sanskrit-English Dictionary (2008 Revision)”.
Pargiter, F.E. 1904. Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a. Calcutta: Asiatic Society of Bengal.
Simson, Georg von. 2007. “Kṛṣṇa’s Son Sāmba: Faked Gender and Other Ambiguities on the
Background of Lunar and Solar Myth”. In Gender and Narrative in the Mahābhārata, edited by
Simon Brodbeck and Brian Black. London: Routledge.
3 The story of Sajñā
Mother of Manu, threshold of tradition
This chapter analyses the very important Vedic story of Sajñā. In addition
to being the wife of the Sun, she mothers the very same Manu whose
backstory the DM supplies. It first debunks the pervasive scholarly
interpretation of this myth as a tale of ‘the wicked stepmother(Balkaran
2019) before arguing that this solar myth sits at the cusp of the Goddess
narrative because it brilliantly encodes the astronomical alignment at which
the DurPūjā occurs (Balkaran 2018). This chapter not only deepens our
discussion on the Saura–Śākta symbiosis occurring within the MkP, but also
substantiates the existence of an ideological ecosystem within the MkP
fuelling that symbiosis.
3.1 Debunking Doniger
The story of Sajñā that we find in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a (MkP) is as
significant as it is mesmerizing, especially in light of its role as the
backstory for the Devī Māhātmya (DM), immediately following it in the
MkP. It indeed “stands at the threshold of another tradition, the beginning of
the incorporation of the worship of the Goddess into Sanskrit texts”
(Doniger 1999, 55). Wendy Doniger, the most prolific voice in expounding
this myth, further remarks that:
since the Markandeya Purana tells the tale of Samjna not once but
twice and regards her as the mother of the Manu who rules in our age,
the whole Devī Māhātmya is, in a sense, a footnote to the story of the
shadow of Saranyu.
(Doniger 1999, 55)1
However, the fact that the Sajñā myth is told twice is not necessarily
indicative of its double importance (as compared to the DM), but rather, of
its framing function of the DM: it is told immediately before and after the
DM, serving to thematically contextualize the exploits of the Goddess.
From the perspective of the DM which glorifies the great goddess whose
might surpasses even the creators, and whose grace is responsible for
installing the next Manu it is the story of Sajñā which ornaments, and
echoes, the Goddess’ grandeur. But why would this be? What is it about the
story of Sajñā that warrants its use as a foyer into the grandeur of the
Great Goddess? How does the story of Sajñā entailing an exchange
between Sūrya, the Sun, and his wives Sajñā and Chāyā orient us in
broaching the Goddess of the DM?
3.1.1 Structuralist sleight of hand
Frame narratives function as guides to interpretation. A frame of course
cannot function as a strict, dogmatic failsafe against dynamic, ongoing
mythic exegesis, or else the fluidity of the Purāic genre freezes into
cultural obsoleteness. They are more like irrigational guides, designed to
channel the narrative flow into fertile grounds for embellishment and
interpretation. While much might be gained by plucking a given myth out if
its narrative context so as to compare it to myths of similar content,
affording purvey of the structural functions of elements of the myth, much
too is lost in the process. Furthermore, this approach implicitly holds
subsequent articulations accountable to earlier versions (consciously or
unconsciously), operating under the premise that earlier articulations are
‘more authentic’ in some way or another. Of course both diachronic and
synchronic methodologies constitute viable means of gaining insight into
the ‘meaning’ of a given narrative. However, I contend that if one is
interested in grappling with a specific articulation of a narrative, one needs
to commence with fully unpacking it within the narrative content proper to
its articulation before (rather than instead of) proceeding to compare it to
others of its kind. An individual mythic articulation need not be held
accountable to its previous or subsequent incarnations. Yet when we
compare mythic articulations from different historical horizons (which to be
sure is a useful and important exercise), the process itself often constitutes a
‘sleight of hand’ of sorts, causing us to perceive contortions and occlusions
which are very much functions of our methodological lens and not
necessarily proper to their articulations themselves.
Wendy Doniger addresses the story of Sajñā at seven junctures
throughout her work, in publications spanning forty years (Doniger 1976;
1980, 174–85; 1996; 1999; 2000; 2004, 60–70; Doniger O’Flaherty 1973,
276–92). She does so largely through the lens of earlier Vedic articulations
of the myth and thus against the grain of the mythology of the Sun found in
the MkP. In her 1976 publication, The Origins of Evil in Hindu Mythology,
Wendy Doniger writes that “an important Vedic myth of two mothers is the
story of Sajñā, the wife of the sun” (Doniger 1980, 349). It is important
for our purposes to unpack her methodological approach. While she uses a
modified structuralist technique in her first publication (Doniger
O’Flaherty, 1973), Doniger writes that:
the problem of evil does not easily lend itself to a structuralist
approach, perhaps because so many of its jagged facets prove
stubbornly irreducible I have therefore used any tool that would do
the job a bit of philology, a measure of theology, lashings of
comparative religion, a soupcon of anthropology, even a dash of
psychoanalysis.
(Doniger 1976, 9)
Despite this announcement, it appears that structuralism pervades the
methodological milieu of this work nevertheless. Articulations of the
Sajñā story (and its Vedic correlates pertaining to the goddess Sarayū,
whom Doniger equates with Sajñā) appear at several junctures of Indian
lore, ranging from Vedas to the Upaniads to, of course, the Purāas.2 One
might question the ability of any given author to translate and render
thirteen mythic junctures ranging across two millennia of cultural and
textual history in one fell swoop but, graced by the powers of structuralist
analysis, Doniger does just that. She presents “the” myth as follows:
Sajñā gave birth to twins, Yama and Yamī, and then left her husband,
creating as a substitute in her place an identical goddess called Chāyā
(“dark shadow”). Her husband discovered the deception only when
Chāyā mistreated her stepson, Yama; Yama tried to kick Chāyā and
was cursed by her to lose his leg, a curse which his father later
modified so that Yama fell to the underworld, the first mortal to die and
king of all subsequent dead people. Vivasvat pursued Sajñā, who had
taken the form of a mare, and in the form of a stallion (whose seed she
drank) he begat the twin Aśvins upon her.
(Doniger 1976, 349)
She then proceeds to offer analysis of her translation under the section
heading, “The Good and Evil Mother” as follows:
The oppositional pairs of the good and bad mother, the bright image
(sajñā) and dark shadow, are linked with the motif of the fertile solar
stallion pursuing the erotic, destructive mare. The sun himself is said to
have been rejected and pushed from the breast by his mother, Aditi, or
to have been threatened by her asceticism while still in her womb,
becoming mortal because of this [n. 143 reads RV10.72.8–9]
Chāyā’s hatred of her stepson results in a curse that makes Yama into
the king of the dead. Thus the wicked, false mother is the source of the
greatest of all evils, the kingdom of the dead.
(Doniger 1976, 349)
In the first section of her analysis above, Doniger draws upon a binary pair
of opposites the good and the bad mother in order to explain how
Sajñā and Chāyā relate to each other and their purpose in the myth as a
whole: the ill-treatment of Yama. She furthermore links this binary with a
second pair of opposites, namely the fertile solar stallion and the erotic
destructive mare. These theoretical tropes curtail the individual articulations
of this tale in ways that can be (as is the case in the MkP’s telling) contrary
to what we actually see in the text. It is, for example, mystifying how one
could perceive, based upon the MkP account, an “erotic, destructive mare”
when we are explicitly told that Sajñā in her equine form performed
austerities and fasted “like a chaste wife” (106.12), and that her efforts were
geared towards pacification of her destructive husband. It is in fact
Sajñā’s steadfast celibate austerity which spiritually empowers her to
reckon with her husband’s overbearing tejas. Doniger nevertheless asserts
elsewhere that sexual insatiability “is the telltale characteristic of the mare
in Hindu mythology” (Doniger 1999, 48), and that this insatiability serves
as an essential clue to Sajñā’s “flight from marriage and motherhood”
(Doniger 1999, 48). If Sajñā cared not for motherhood, it is doubtful that
she would bother to craft a double and especially doubtful that she would
instruct it to care for her children in her absence. Likewise, if she cared not
for marriage, it is doubtful she would undertake austerities to ameliorate her
husband’s form. She flees from the Sun’s excessive sharpness; once this is
quelled, she gladly returns to both marriage and motherhood.
Reading the myths of the MkP through the lens of their “older, original”
correlates is misguided, for, understandably in doing so, one might quite
sensibly argue that:
the fact the Sara myth is a hierogamy between a mortal and an
immortal accounts for both Sarayū’s desertion of her husband and her
“trimming” of him: either the sun is impotent and abandoned by the
goddess or he is too powerful and is therefore castrated, a no-win
situation if ever there was one.
(Doniger 1980, 183)
Similarly, as Robert Goldman points out, “the sun, of course, is the mortal
par excellence in the Veda” (Goldman 1969, 278), and furthermore that he
is “a progenitor of mortals. In the Rgveda, itself, he is said to be the father
both of Manu (VIII. 52.1) and Yama (X. 14.1)” (Goldman 1969, 279).
However, the Sun is certainly no mortal in the MkP. Therefore, while the
myth of Sara and her husband in the g Veda may very well be one
wherein “the male is a mortal while the female is immortal” (Goldman
1969, 275), this simply cannot be said to be true of the myth of Sajñā and
her husband in the MkP. Not only is the Sun said to be immortal, he is
described as the prime being among immortals, lauded variously as “the
supreme light that was at the beginning” (103.7), “the eternal one” (104.19),
“without birth” (107.4), “self-existent” (107.5), “lord without beginning”
(109.72). Therefore, the mythology of Sajñā and Sūrya in the MkP is not
a hierogamy between a mortal and an immortal, so this cannot possibly
account for Sajñā’s flight, or for the pairing down of Sūrya. Nor does it
appear sensible to attribute Sajñā’s flight in the MkP to either a distaste
for motherhood or an insatiable sexual appetite. Sajñā in equine form is
portrayed as neither destructive nor erotic; on the contrary, she maintains
ascetic chastity in order to quell the destructive tendencies of an
overbearing husband.
Let us now turn to the second section of the above analysis, regarding
Chāyā’s alleged hatred for her stepson, causing her to curse Yama and
become “the source of the greatest of all evils, the kingdom of the dead”
(Doniger 1976, 349). Neither account in the MkP correlates Chāyā’s curse
(that Yama’s foot should fall off) with his status as the lord of the departed:
the first account tells us that “because he is righteous of eye, impartial to
friend and foe, therefore the dispeller of darkness appointed him over the
southern region” (78.29) (Pargiter 1904, 506), while the second account
tells us that the Sun “appointed him to the southern region; his adorable
father gave to him the duty of protecting the world, O brahman, and the
lordship over the pitis” (106.18–19) (Pargiter 1904, 575–6). Furthermore,
as we have seen above, it is Sūrya’s curse (based on Sajñā restraining her
eyes) that causes Yama, “the restrainer” to be born to her. Yama and his role
are inseparable; he was accorded this status before birth. More crucial to
engaging this myth is the fact that while the myth of a primordial mother-
figure causing humanity’s fall from blissful immortality to tragic mortality
might prevail in the Abrahamic mythic imagination, it alas, is deeply
incommensurate with the myth at hand, both with respect to its specific
articulation and to the cultural imagination authoring it.
Donigers distortion results from uprooting the myth from its narrative
and cultural contexts, which she does in the interest of embellishing the
discourse of a “bifurcated Hindu feminine”, a trope abounding throughout
her work. While Doniger does indeed mention the MkP among the various
literary spaces with which the Sūrya–Sajñā–Chāyā episode is furnished,
she neglects to register the import of the myth’s narrative context therein.
We ought not to read the myth as if Chāyā were some “other” mate chosen
by Sūrya and forced to contend with her husband’s children of a previous
marriage (as the term “stepmother” might connote). Chāyā was created by
Sajñā through an act of self-cloning, one reminiscent of the yogic
attainment (siddhi) of bilocation wherein the yogī is able to project a
duplicate of his form, known as a shadow self (chāyā mūrti). We must note
that shadow here does not connote nefariousness as it might in English, but
merely reflection. Furthermore, this reflected self of Sajñā was explicitly
instructed to treat the children well. The text does not indicate hatred nor ill
treatment towards any of the children. Rather it indicates favouritism shown
towards the younger children, which as anyone familiar with the dynamics
of child-rearing in a South Asian context can readily attest, would likely
have been the case, even where all of the children were of the same parents.
If this sort of favouritism were unconventional, it would have in itself
aroused suspicion. Chāyā is not suspected as being other than Sajñā
through her favouritism towards the younger children, but through her very
human reaction to Yama’s egregious insult, a reaction which only a mother
might, under ideal circumstances, have been able to suppress.
In the MkP account, Chāyā is not demonized as ‘the wicked stepmother
– far from it. She succeeds in mothering children who are Sūrya’s legitimate
offspring, who have crucial cosmic roles, no less so than Sūrya’s children
by Sajñā. Despite Doniger chalking up Yama’s inauspicious post as the
result of Chāyā’s curse, Mārkaṇḍeya informs us that envious of Chāyā’s
favouritism of the three younger siblings, Yama threatened to kick her due
to “both anger and childishness.” As inappropriate a thing this is to do in
Western culture, it would be absolutely inexcusable in an Indian context not
only because of one’s duty to respect elders and to revere one’s parents as
gods on earth, but especially because it is an expression of utter disregard to
touch someone with one’s foot, not to mention kicking them. So stigmatized
is this that injunctions persist about even displaying the soles of one’s feet
towards a teacher or person of respect. One would not think to kick even
inanimate objects which deserve respect, such as books. Chāyā curses Yama
for his atrocious “unfilial conduct” (Pargiter 1904, 566). It is clear in the
text that Yama is well aware that the transgression is his, not Chāyā’s; he
runs to his father to beg pardon and intersession of the curse, confessing
that he “lifted my foot against her, but did not let it fall on her body;
whether it was through childishness or through foolishness, do thou, Sir,
deign to pardon it” (MP 106.24; see Pargiter 1904, 568). He asks
forgiveness because he has done wrong. Sūrya, in like manner, begins his
response thus: “Without doubt, my son, this curse must take effect here,
since anger entered into thee” (MP 106.25; see Pargiter 1904, 568). Even
the overbearing Sūrya can recognize that the fault here lies with Yama’s
conduct. If Chāyā is faulted in this myth, it is only for falling short of
exhibiting saintly compassion in the face of atrocious disrespect on behalf
on the part of a haughty youth.
When Arjuna asks the Gandharva after the [patronym] Tāpatya, he
relays the story of Tapatī, the resplendent daughter of the Sun. The Sun
who was concerned to marry her off – decided that King Savaraa should
be her husband due to his devotion to the Sun.
When he saw his daughter reach the nubile age and ready for marriage,
he found no peace as he worried about her marrying. Now, the son of
ka, O Kaunteya, the powerful bull of the Kurus, King Savaraa,
was wont to worship the Sun with offerings of guest gifts and garlands,
with fasts and observances and with manifold mortifications.
Obediently and unselfishly and purely, the scion of the Pauravas
worshiped the splendiferous Sun with great devotion as He rose. So, it
came about that the Sun judged the grateful and law-minded
Savaraa on earth to be Tapatī equal in beauty. He then desired to
give the maiden in marriage to that sublime King Savaraa, O
Kaurava, whose descent was glorious. Just as in the sky the fiery-rayed
Sun spreads light with splendor, so King Savaraa was resplendent
on earth. And just as the scholars of the Brahman worship the rising
Sun, so the brahmins and the lower subjects worshiped Savaraa, O
Pārtha. The illustrious king outdid the moon in benevolence to his
friends and the Sun in fierceness to his haters. Thus the Sun himself set
his mind on marrying Tapatī to the king of such great virtue and such
good conduct, O Kaurava.
(MBh I.11.11–20)
While hunting, the king encounters the resplendent maiden and falls madly
in love. She disappears and he hits the ground, love-sick until she returns.
Love-struck indeed “wrapped in the flames of love” (161.5; Pargiter
1904, 327) – he proposes they elope. Tapatī replies:
I am not my own mistress, sire, for I am a girl with a father. If you have
pleasure in me, ask my father for me. For if I have laid hold of your
senses, O king, no less have you taken mine, the instant I saw you. I
am not mistress of my body, therefore, good king. I cannot come to
you; for women are always dependent. But what girl would not wish
for her protector and loving husband a king whose descent is famous in
all the worlds? Therefore, now that it has come to this, ask my father
the Sun, with prostration, mortification, and observances! If he desires
to give me to you, scourge of your enemies, I shall forever be yours.
my king. I am Tapatī, the younger sister of Sāvitrī, the daughter of
Savitar who is the torch of the world, O bull of the barons.
(15–20; Pargiter 1904, 327)
Tapatī then vanishes, heavens-bound, while the king again hits the ground,
losing consciousness in the wilderness. His minister (and escort) finds him
in that fallen state, without his horse, “as though scorched by fire” (162.3)
and raises his king from the ground. Once he comes to, the king dismisses
his army,
After the large force had departed at the king’s orders, the king again
sat down on that mountain plateau. He cleansed himself, and then, on
that great mountain, he folded his hands and raised his arms and
remained in that manner on the ground to propitiate the Sun. In his
thoughts he went out to that strictest of seers. Vasiṣṭha, his house
priest, did King Savaraa, slayer of foes. Day and night the king of
the people stayed in the same place, then, on that twelfth day, the
brahmin seer came. When Vasiṣṭha found that the king was in love
with Tapatī the great seer who had perfected his soul knew it by
divine insight-he spoke to the eminent, self-controlled prince, for being
Law-minded he wished to benefit him. As the sovereign of men looked
on, the blessed seer, himself of solar splendor, strode up to heaven to
visit the Sun.
(162.10–16; Pargiter 1904, 327)
Vasiṣṭha successfully appeals to the Sun on behalf of the king, and the two
are married. The couple frolic in nature for twelve years during, and
because, of which Savaraa’s kingdom endures a great drought and
famine. Vasiṣṭha then appeals to the couple to return to his city, which he
does, restoring order and bringing great prosperity by virtue of his royal
presence. The Gandharva narrator of the Tapatī subtale concludes: “Thus
the Lady Tapatī, daughter of the Sun, became your ancestress, Pārtha, so
that after her you are known as Tāpatya. On Tapatī King Savaraa begot
Kuru, O greatest of burners, and hence you are a Tāpatya, Arjuna” (160.1;
Pargiter 1904, 324).
The ‘wicked stepmother motif that is, the notion that “behind this
complex myth we may discern a few repeated, familiar themes [such as the
dual nature of Sajñā expressed as] the loving mother and the wicked step-
mother” (Doniger 1980, 177) – is problematic to say the least. The theme of
the wicked stepmother may indeed be a “familiar” one, but only to those
familiar with western fairy tales, and not necessarily their Indian mythic
counterparts. In seeking to chart the “origins of evil” in Hindu mythology,
one is confronted with two interconnected obstacles with respect to the
conception of evil therein: first, the cosmos itself, much less any aspect of
it, is fundamentally beginning-less, a notion which undercuts discourse of
origins; and second, one cannot treat as a separate entity that which is
conceived as an aspect of a greater whole. The lines between good and evil
are incredibly (and intentionally) blurred in Purāic discourse where gods
may behave nefariously (typically for a greater good) and demons may
exhibit extraordinary piety, particular in devotional milieus, for the sake of
acquiring power. For example, the gods (suras) and the demons (more
literally, the anti-gods, asuras) not only share an ancestry but, as we are
reminded of in the myth of the churning of the ocean, are kindred polarities
which must collaborate to generate the creative tension engendering all of
the universe’s riches and even immortality itself. That these forces appear to
oppose each other is so only from a limited perspective. From a grander
perspective, these forces are like two separate hands pressed together in
añjali mudrā, stemming from the same ground of being, producing a unified
gesture.
In maintaining the evil stepmother motif, one silences what the MkP has
to say; Doniger therefore writes,
this transition from good mother to evil mother is highly significant in
the Indian context; Indeed, some Puranic texts tried to restore a
modicum of maternal spirit to Saraby stating that she turned away
from the stallion because she feared that he might be some man other
than her husband (MkP: 103–105). This gloss is untrue to the
original spirit of the myth.
(Doniger 1980, 185)
From what perspective should we gage what is authentic? Doniger bases the
“original spirit” of “the” myth upon her understanding of its earliest known
incarnations and thus eclipses the authority of the composers of the MkP
themselves, along with the communities which preserve, invoke and depend
upon its current articulation in their religious lives. She not only reads the
myth of Sajñā in the MkP at large through the lens of its earlier Vedic
correlates, but she goes so far as to outright dismiss as inauthentic the
elements which do not conform to that lens. To my mind, this outcome
comprises the central hazard to uprooting Purāic tales from their narrative
soil, intended to support, not thwart, their religious transmission; a
compromise of their religious authority.
Sixteen years after her publication of the Origins of Evil in Hindu
Mythology, Doniger produces a 1996 article dedicated to Sajñā/Sara
(Doniger 1996) wherein she perpetuates the practice of plucking from myth
cycles across vast spans of time and reading later articulations as distortions
of earlier ones. She draws her data from
g Veda 10.17.1–2, the
Hariva
śa, the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a, along with an episode from the
classic series Indian comics, Amar Chitra Katha. Rather than chart the
functions of the single character of Sajñā across three millennia of
cultural history, it is perhaps more commensurate to the Purāic textual
transformations to study in detail how that character relates to the whole
within a single articulation of the myth cycle in a given Purāa. It is, for
example, crucial to note that the Purāic authors never refer to the figure in
question as Sarayū, but only as Sajñā, which suggests a distancing, if
not radical reconfiguring, from the figure we find in Vedic lore to the one
which graces the Purāas. As a result of this conscious transformation,
tension arises while reading Purāic iterations and all the while harkening
to Vedic articulations in order to understand “the myth” in itself. Hence,
Doniger, upon completing her discussion of Sarain the Vedic literature,
refers to the articulation of this found in the Harivaśa and the Purāas as
“later variants” (Doniger 1996, 158) wherein the goddess is not named
Sarayū, but Sajñā (Doniger 1996, 158). This attitude of course echoes
the trenchant bias towards the Purāas as corruptions of older texts.
Keeping in line with her “variant from Vedic version” discussion, Doniger
further notes that:
Samjna’s surrogate is no longer said to be of the same kind or type but
is rather her chaya, her mirror image or shadow, creature who is not
exactly like her but is her opposite in terms either of inversion (the
mirror image) or of color (the shadow).
(Doniger 1996, 158)
This note regarding colour keeps in line with her interest in questions of
race (Doniger 1996, 154), yet is problematized by the fact that Sajñā
addresses Sajñā as “fair one” (MkP 106.7) in her instructions prior to
fleeing. Regardless, these notable developments entailing the transition of
Sara and Sāvarā to Sajñā and Chāyā respectively ought not be
viewed as deviations from the original Vedic myth, but as important
Purāic articulations in their own right, whose religious vision is equally
authentic to its contemporaries as the Vedic myths were to theirs.
In the section of her article discussing the MkP, Doniger translates the
opening of the first account of the Sajñā myth as follows:
Samjna was the daughter of Tvastr and the wife of Martanda, the Sun.
He produced in her Manu, called Manu Vaivasvata, since he was
Vivasvant’s son. But when the Sun looked at her, Samjna used to shut
her eyes, and so the Sun got angry and spoke sharply to Samjna: “Since
you always restrain (samyamam) your eyes when you see me, therefore
you will bring forth a twin (yama) who will restrain (samyamanam)
creatures.” Then the goddess became agitated by terror, and her gaze
flickered; and when he saw that her gaze darted about, he said to her
again, “Since now your gaze darts about when you see me, therefore
you will bring forth a daughter who will be a river that darts about.”
And so because of her husband’s curse Yama and Yamuna were born in
her.
(MP 74.1–7) (Doniger 1996, 164)
Doniger then proceeds to offer the following analysis: “where Manu is
named after his father, and is blessed, Yama is named after his mother, and
is cursed; for he is named not after her name but after her evil deeds”
(Doniger 1996, 164). First, let us be reminded that, it is not Yama who is
named after his mother. Rather, it is the second Manu, Sāvari, who is
named after Chāyā, known also as Sāvarā, (i.e. She of the Likeness).
Second and more importantly, the fact that this exchange is designed to
paint the Sun (and not Sajñā) in a less than favourable light is
corroborated throughout the solar myths to be found in the MkP. They
unanimously warn us of the danger and disruption which ensues when the
Sun is excessive in his intensity. This is unsurprising to a people born of a
climate wherein when the Sun is too intense, drought ensues, hence his
epithet, ‘Robber of the Waters’. The aforementioned portion of the myth,
accounting for Yama’s birth, tells us that death (Yama) is fathered by the
wrath of the Sun. Recall: that this entire episode is framed by the
mythology of the Sun who is unbearable even to the creator himself and
constitutes a threat to cosmic order; and that this episode (between Brahmā
and Sūrya) occurs before the Sūrya–Sajñā episode is of course
significant: the earlier serves to frame the later.
There can be little doubt that the MkP is sympathetic to the plight of
Sajñā: for who is able to gaze at the Sun full on, in its full fury, without
squinting? The text portrays an overbearing husband rather than a nefarious
wife. The Sun curses Sajñā in this moment but the text clearly sides with
Sajñā; hence she flees and is never once admonished for doing so, neither
by her husband, her sons, her father nor the narrator of the text. Recall that
Sūrya himself realizes the folly of his ways and volunteers to be pared
down towards the conclusion of this telling. In the Sun’s rash cruelty, he
curses his own unborn children, but let us not forget that Yama’s curse is
ultimately reconfigured as a cosmic benediction insofar as Yama became
the righteous-eyed judge because of it. Doniger misguidedly argues that, “as
anthropogonies, these stories are saying that the primeval children, our
ancestors, were abandoned by their mother” (Doniger 1996, 154). Even to
entertain that this angle of inquiry as central to the contours of this myth
(which, as Doniger herself admits, is probably not the case a wise move
considering Indian deities are rarely rendered as exemplars for human
conduct), can we sensibly arrive at this conclusion when we are told that
our primordial mother: 1) was unable to remain due to our fathers
excessive sharpness; 2) that she made arrangements for our care during her
necessary respite, cloning herself and commanding her clone to treat us
well; 3) that she engaged in religious practices in order to restore balance to
our family; and 4) that she was successful in neutralizing our fathers
overbearing wrath and restoring balance, such that she ended up returning
to us and so didn’t ultimately abandon us at all? It is perhaps precisely due
to the resilient faces of the feminine divine pervading the MkP, such as that
of Sajñā, that the DM is happily at home therein.
Donigers own words point to the incommensurability between her
hermeneutic approach and the myth we find in the MkP. She states at the
outset of her Sajñā study that she is primarily interested in “questions of
gender and race” (Doniger 1996, 154), but must admit that nothing is said
of the Sun’s “ugliness or dark color” in the MkP’s accounts of his
mythology, which leave only questions of gender. With respect to such
questions, she appears so intent on painting the picture of humanity’s fall
from grace due to the evils of a primordial stepmother (a motif familiar to
anyone remotely acquainted with Abrahamic religion), that she fails to
address the obvious feminist gems of this myth cycle: first, that wives and
mothers are thought to hold tremendous power over the domestic sphere
and thus exert great influence over their families through their religious
activities; and second, rather than the typical motif of the daughter being
made to succumb to the pressures of the mother-in-law, we have a shocking
and refreshing reversal: a son-in-law (the Sun himself no less) who submits
to the hammering down of his father-in-law for the safety and comfort of
his wife, family and society as a whole. When Doniger does turn her
attention to the fact that the versions of this myth cycle occurring in the
MkP (along with the one occurring in the Harivaśa) “give new
prominence to an old, silent character: the father-in-law, Tvastr” (Doniger
1996, 165), she does so in order to argue that “the aggression of the bride’s
father against her husband” (Doniger 1996, 166) (a statement which itself
cannot be said to apply to the MkP’s tellings) “lends weight, retrospectively,
to the possibly incestuous connection that some Indologists have seen
between Tvastr and Saranyu in the Vedic corpus” (Doniger 1996, 166).
Strangely she opts to read the father-in-law’s willingness to pare down
the Sun’s splendour (at the Sun’s behest) for the sake of the welfare of his
daughter as grounds for reading into the Purāic telling conjecture into a
possible incestuous relationship held by some Indologists in reference to
myths composed two millennia earlier, rather than registering that the myth
serves as a salient reminder to overbearing husbands that daughters are
always welcomed (albeit temporarily) to their fathers’ homes post-marriage.
Not only does Doniger appear to take no interest in this dimension of the
myth, she claims that Sajñā took the form of a mare “when her father
threw her out of his house” (Doniger 1996, 163). Similarly, in Hindu Myths
wherein she translates this same passage from the MkP, she writes that
Sajñā’s father “admonished her again and again to go to her husband”
(Doniger 2004, 66). She fails to mention that the MkP tells us that Sajñā
remained in her fathers house “unreproached” (aninditā, 77.16), or that her
father, “after praising her and prefacing his speech with love and much
respect” (stutvā ca tanayā
premabahumānapura
saram, 77.17), advises
her to leave since it is improper for a married woman to remain among her
kinsmen (i.e. away from her husband) for a long time, and that she was
welcome to return in the future. The text goes out of its way to indicate that
Sajñā was welcome in her fathers home and that her father lovingly
sends her back for the sake of her honour, all the while unaware that she
was imperilled by her husband’s overbearing nature. It is the Sun, and not
Sajñā, who mends his ways in the MkP. In portraying this mother of the
Manus, the MkP certainly does not paint a portrait of an absentee mother
nor a wicked stepmother nor ultimately a disenfranchised wife. Rather it
portrays a resilient feminine figure, who succeeds in softening overbearing
masculinity when she is imperilled by the dangers of its sharpness.
3.1.2 Seminal splendour and the transmission of tejas
Despite the richness of the term tejas (fiery energy, vital power, spirit), and
its obvious connotations to majesty, Wendy Doniger, in her reading of this
myth, favours one of its more figurative meanings: semen.3 She therefore
translates the encounter as follows:
Then Vivasvant’s body was beautiful, and had no excessive fiery
energy. He went to his wife, the mare, in the form of a stallion. But
when she saw him approaching she feared it might be another male,
and so she turned to face him, determined to protect her hindquarters.
Their noses joined as they touched, and the seed of the Sun flowed
from his two nostrils into the mare and came out of her mouth, and in
that way the equine twin gods called the Asvins were born.
(Doniger 1996, 165)
She notes that “impregnation by drinking semen is a world-wide theme, and
it is particularly well developed in India. In the Vedic story of Sajñā, the
mare becomes pregnant by smelling or absorbing through her nostrils the
seed of her husband” (Doniger O’Flaherty 1973, 276). Therefore, she reads
the Sun’s excessive splendour (tejas) as his overbearing sexuality, from
which Sajñā must flee. She reasons that it is significant that the word for
energy (tejas) is also a word for semen since Sajñā “in her
anthropomorphic form avoids the Sun’s energy, while in her mare form she
avoids the stallion’s semen” (Doniger 1996, 163). However, this
comparison is lopsided: Sajñā does not merely avoid the Sun’s energy,
she flees from it out of desperation. With respect to the “strange” male, she
does not flee but merely averts penetration and engages him face to face.
Furthermore, Sajñā here does not fear Sūrya’s semen but the semen of
“another male”. She fled from the overbearing majesty of the Sun, not his
procreative proclivity, hence the begetting of three children with him prior
to fleeing. This fear results not merely as a threat to her womanhood (or
marehood rather) but as a threat to the celibate austerities in which she was
engaged, along with a threat to her marital fidelity. In other words, she was
not afraid because it was Sūrya (from whose sexuality she needed to flee)
but precisely because it wasn’t Sūrya (or so she thought), on account of her
commitment to whom, sexual engagement with another ought to be avoided
at all costs. These sources of anxiety may not be simplified as tantamount to
fearing male sexuality at large, and particularly not her husband’s.
The text could not possibly be referring to the stallion’s literal semen
flowing into Sajñā since it was emitted through his nose, not his genitals.
She also received it through her nose, and receiving liquid through one’s
nose, as we know, is an unpleasant and dangerous experience. Sajñā
birthed the aśvins through her mouth, and not her genitals. It is noteworthy
that the verb “to drink” () appears nowhere in this passage, despite
Donigers claim that the world-wide theme of impregnation through
drinking semen has been particularly well developed in India (Doniger
O’Flaherty 1973, 276). Even if seminal fluid was involved, Sajñā doesn’t
drink it since it would have then passed from her nose to her mouth;
drinking involves swallowing. The supernormal dimension of this
encounter strongly suggests that we are to literally take it that the Sun
conceived the celestial twins with his literal tejas, his spiritual power. If the
authors meant to signify physical semen, they could have easily used the
term retas, which would very conveniently serve the prosodic demands of
both meter and stress, and much better connote seminal fluid than does
tejas. That the Aśvins were conceived with such miraculous power befits
their own miraculous healing ability. We are told that the Sun and Sajñā
in equine form “joined their noses” (Pargiter 1904, 460), an act which is
bereft of physical penetration. We are soon thereafter told that Revanta was
born at the end of the flow (retaso ‘ante), presumably of the Sun’s
transmission. Retas, as noted above, also connotes the flow of semen. Thus,
in Hindu Myths, Doniger translates this as “And when the seed ceased to
flow [retaso ‘ante, ‘at the end of the seed’] Revanta was born” (Doniger
2004, 69). However there is only one mention of retas, which cannot be
translated twice as both “seed” and “flow”. Therefore, it may be translated
as “as the end of the seed” or “at the end of the flow”. It is less forced to
translate retas as ‘flow’ [i.e. of tejas] in this context given the absence of
reproductive organs or penetration involved in the encounter. Also the
phrase retaso’ ante is a play on the name Revanta, which cleverly evokes
revato‘ante”, that is, at the end of the constellation Revati where one finds
the constellation Aśvini, the same asterism over which the Aśvin twins
preside. Interestingly there is an account of a previous Manu (the fifth one)
Raivata whose backstory is heavily interspersed with the constellation
Revatī. Perhaps it is not without design that we hear the tale of a Manu
whose backstory invokes Revatī before hearing a tale of a Manu whose
backstory invokes Aśvini, at the end of Revatī (revato’ante).
Given the supernormal, non-penetrative, voluntary encounter between
Sūrya and Sajñā, Donigers claim that Sajñā was “raped by the Sun
stallion and brought home again [since] in the end she must submit to
her husband’s sexual demands, just like a human woman” (Doniger 1999,
49) is most mystifying to my mind. This reading presents the myth out of
the context of its various narrative frames. Narrative frames bear
tremendous thematic import, devised to ideologically orient one’s reading
of myth. Donigers reading presumes that Sajñā attains equine form to
enjoy sexual freedom. But if Sajñā had the gumption to devise and
implement an escape plan so that she didn’t have to contend with the
energetic threat of her husband while in anthropomorphic form, could we
really think she would hesitate to gallop away from the sexual threat of a
strange male while in equine form? How can this stallion be portrayed as a
threat when she turns and unflinchingly encounters him face to face? Post-
encounter the MkP unambiguously informs us that Sajñā is pleased at the
sight of her husband’s pared down form, and describes her as the Sun’s
“loving wife”. The passage reads: “then the Sun displayed his own peerless
form, and she gazing upon his true form felt a keen joy; and the Sun, the
robber of the waters, brought home this his loving wife Sañjñā restored to
her own shape” (MkP 78.25–26). One is unable to locate within this
passage indications of sexual coercion of any kind, nor evidence supporting
the presumption that Sajñā is dragged home.
That Sajñā opts not to flee indicates no sign of struggle, and that she
voluntarily joins noses with the equine-Sun is consistent with what the text
tells us: she is afraid of union with another male, intent on guarding her
chastity. She attains the form of a mare to practice chaste austerities, rather
than indulge her sexual appetite. And if the text indeed intended to portray a
Sajñā who wished to sow her wild oats, it is doubtful that the idyllic land
of the Northern Kurus4 would be the place to do so, since it is a location
where folks are born in pairs and each partner has the same lifespan so that
blissful monogamy may ensue. Had they intended to invoke the theme of
sexual freedom, the others of this episode would have much better served
their cause by a) refraining from having Sajñā guard her rear, and b)
choosing any of the several other regions described in the MkP than one
explicitly associated with contented monogamy. The resilient and
resourceful Sajñā of the MkP was neither raped, nor “dragged”
anywhere; she left home because of her husband’s overbearing tejas, and
while we may debate about what that tejas might be said to represent, there
is no question that the Sun had his tejas checked by his father-in-law. Since
the cause of her discontent and flight were eliminated, what reason do we
have to assume her discontent continued? She conceives the Aśvins and
joyfully returns home. While Sajñā suffers to conceive death (Yama)
when the Sun’s tejas is overbearing, she readily receives his pared down
energy to conceive health through the healer-twins. In his fierce form, the
Sun fathers death. In his contained, pleasant form, he births divine medicine
in the idyllic Northern Kurus. And this latter achievement is directly
attributed to the equine austerities of an empowered Sajñā.
In addition to the discourse on tejas and the birth of the Aśvins, there are
a number of notable themes running through the MkP’s account of the
mythology of Sūrya. In particular, this myth cycle is redolent with the
overarching theme of mirror-images: not only does Chāyā mirror Sajñā
but we are, as well, presented with the production of two sets of children,
the second of which set mirrors the first. Manu Vaivasvata, Yama and Yamī
are mirrored by their younger stepfamily Manu Sāvari, Śanaiścara and
Tapatī (the current Manu, the planet Saturn, and the Narmadā river
respectively). Thus, we hear the tale of two Manus, two gods of human
suffering, and two dark rivers. Interestingly, there is a tertiary dimension to
the duality of this mythology: 1) each stepfamily consists of a threesome,
not just a pair; and 2) the Sun and Sajñā, while in equine form, beget a
third set of triple offspring comprised of the Aśvin twins and Revanta. We
seem to be presented with an intriguing triplet motif comprised of ‘a pair
and a third entity’: the daughters are the third appendage to the pairs of
sons, Revanta is the third entity to be born in tandem with the Aśvins, and
the entire equine family itself is a tertiary emanation of Sūrya’s two
anthropomorphic families. Perhaps this tertiary dynamic is fitting
considering it is spawned by the threefold intertwining of Sūrya, Sajñā
and Chāyā. An object cannot be reflected in the absence of light. Arguably,
the most trenchant expression of mirroring featured in this myth consists of
the interplay between shadow and light. This interplay (like the set of
offspring noted above) is not merely a binary one (as might be expected in
this case) but intriguingly, is tertiary. The main actors are Sūrya as
emblematic of the primal, self-effulgent progenitor of the universe, along
with his primary consort Sajñā, and his secondary consort (born of the
interplay of Sūrya and Sajñā), that is, Chāyā. Sajñā casts behind her
own shadow, unable to bear the Sun. For a shadow to exist before a source
of light, there must be a third entity: an object to cast its shadow.
3.1.3 Shadow and light in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
In my view, the brilliance of this myth is to be found in its treatment of the
interplay between shadow and light: given that it is ultimately Sūrya’s
brilliance (tejas) which causes Sajñā to cast behind her shadow in her
stead, who is to blame for Sajñā’s flight? When Sūrya ventures to his
father-in-law’s home in search of Sajñā (clarity), he requests that his
father-in-law Viśvakarman pare down his form so that it is once again
bearable (MP 106.36–38; see Pargiter 1904, 569). One sees clearly neither
in the dark nor when the light is too bright. Doniger reads this as an
encounter where Viśvakarman “finally mutilates [Sajñā’s] husband in
order to make him acceptable to her” (Doniger 1996, 166). Mutilation
connotes forceful disfigurement resulting in unsightliness and suffering and
can hardly be said to properly refer to a voluntary act of beautification and
pacification, undertaken by a “mutilator” all the while full of songful praise
of his object of mutilation. It is the Sun’s overbearing aspect that results in
Sajñā’s flight, an aspect so overpowering that at the dawn of time, the
creator himself must pare down that aspect for creation to successfully
occur. Rather than fault Sajñā, the MkP expresses a necessity for Sūrya to
be pared down, a task accomplished at the hands of the divine tinkerer, who
is conveniently cast as Sajñā’s father. The Sun never chastises Sajñā
for fleeing, but rather is so much in agreement with the dangers of his
overbearing nature that he voluntarily acquiesces to being pared down.
The Sun does not disown his children born of shadow (Chāyā); rather, he
promotes them in rank to statuses parallel to those of his children born of
Sajñā. Sūrya fathers three children with each of these wives and these
stepfamilies are parallels of one another: Sajñā mothers Vaivasvata (the
current Manu), Yama (the god of the dead, as the shadow of that Manu),
and Yamunā (a river known for turning black, also named Kālindī, Mani
1975, 894) while Chāyā mothers three children: Sāvari (the next Manu),
Śanaiścara (Saturn, the lord of karmic retribution), and Tapatī, who
eventually receives a blessing from Sūrya whereby she becomes the
Narmadā river, flowing west from the Vindhya mountains (Mani 1975,
798).
Chāyā’s daughter, Tapatī, has an even far more significant role to play in
the unfolding of itihāsa. The MkP sums this up in the following line: “The
third of them, the daughter named Tapatī, had a son, Kuru, king of men, by
king Samvaraa” (Pargiter 1904, 461). In the Mahābhārata, Arjuna asks
the Gandharva in the forest why the Gandharva not only addresses him with
the matronymic Kaunteya, son of Kuntī, but also as Tāpatya, son of Tapatī.
The Gandharva then dedicates a subtale to explaining that radiant Tapatī
was wedded by King Savaraa (himself a devotee of the Sun), upon
whom was begotten Kuru, that great ancestor of the entire lineage. Tapatī is
not only the mother of Arjuna, she is the mother of the entire line of kings
populating both ṇḍava and Kaurava camps. The Sun is so inextricable
from the symbolism of kingship that even the lunar line of kings showcased
in the Mahābhārata attributes their lineage to the seed of the Sun. The
legitimacy of both of the Sun’s stepfamilies (along with the legitimacy of
the solar race mothered by one branch of that family tree through Tapatī,
daughter of Chāyā) bespeaks of the legitimacy of both of the śaktis (powers,
consorts) of the Sun to whom both shadow and light must ultimately be
attributed for him to retain primordial supremacy within the solar myths as
the cause of all creation. Therefore rather than being a story of a wicked
stepmother or absentee birthmother, a raped wife, or a mutilated son-in-law,
the Sūrya–Sajñā–Chāyā exchange, couched in a section of the MkP
dedicated to the splendour of the Sun, perhaps more directly comments on
the symbiosis of light and dark.
Doniger concludes her study by confessing that questions of sociology
are not the dominant questions entertained by this myth. She states that this
myth cycle, rather,
raises theological questions about the origin of the human race and of
human death, about appearance and reality, about the relationship
between male and female divine powers, and about the nature of the
relationship between humans and the divine. But that is yet another
story, best left for another time.
(Doniger 1996, 170–1)
Despite the tantalizing hope of having these seminal aspects of this myth
cycle addressed, yet another eighteen years elapsed before this article on
Sajñā reappears in Donigers 2014 collection On Hinduism, relatively
unaltered from its 1996 state. It is no wonder that she writes at the very
outset of her discussion that despite having addressed it “variously in
various books,” the mythology of Sarayū/Sajñā “still accuses [her] of
not even having begun to plumb its depths” (Doniger 2014a, 607, n. 1). Yet
she tells the same story in this article as she did in her 1996 article and one
is left wondering about this profound story “best left for another time”
(Doniger 2014b, 287) as again quoted at the conclusion of the 2013 edition.
This present study, at long last, begins to tell the tale of this captivating
myth cycle which Doniger has broached only in passing for forty years; for
it is these very issues pertaining to “the relationship between male and
female divine powers, and about the nature of the relationship between
humans and the divine” (Doniger 1996, 171) which the DM addresses and
furthermore, why its composers opted to dovetail its narration alongside the
mythology of the Sun found in the MkP. Both mythologies bespeak
powerful feminine divinities whose efforts restore order in the face of peril
and both bespeak the danger, which results when fiery figures, though
required to preserve our world, exceed safe bounds.
Reading the story of Sajñā as merely a tale of an ill-treated goddess
who abandons her children and whose actions are the source of the evil of
death, is fundamentally incommensurate with the vision of the feminine
divine that the authors of the DM present and by virtue of this,
incommensurate with their understanding of Sajñā with whose
mythology they yolk the grandeur of the Goddess to the fabric of the MkP.
Sajñā’s tale is the one which demonstrates feminine resourcefulness,
faith, and tenacity of spirit which ultimately restores cosmic balance.
Sajñā, through her austerity, causes the destructive aspect of the Sun to
keep at bay and thus ensures the preservation not only of self and family,
but also of the cosmos as a whole. It is primarily her efforts, and only
secondarily her husband’s (once he realizes the motivation for her penance),
which restores cosmic balance. Doniger writes that “on the metaphysical
level the myth of Sajñā seems to be saying that we, the descendants of
Manu, are the children of the image – the children of māyā, not the children
of the real thing” (Doniger 1996, 170) and that “these myths embody the
Vedantic view that we are born into illusion, live in illusion, and can only
know illusion” (Doniger 1996, 170). But in my estimation, this myth, in the
context of the MkP (especially given its vital association to the DM), goes
well beyond the values of Vedantic binary, succeeding in subverting them
by positing a supremacy on the part of that illusion insofar as it is
inextricable from anything conceived to be superior to it. We are told at the
very beginning of the DM, for example, that King Suratha is made the lord
of an age by the might of Mahāmāyā. To be the children of Mahāmāyā is to
be children of the divine mother and arguably, to be children of the future:
while the current Manu, the child of Sajñā, is patrilineally named
Vaivasvata (after Vivasvat, the Sun), the Manu Sāvari, primordial overlord
of the next epoch, is named after his mother, Sāvarā, She of the Likeness.
Her Likeness, through Sāvari, our primordial forefather to come, shall
populate an entire age. Bolstered by its Purāic context, the DM affirms
that the diversity of this phenomenal world, along with the myriad of life
forms finding homes herein, is as supreme as that dynamic feminine
mystery which engenders, supports, and governs it, compelled through
compassion towards colossal acts of cosmic preservation.
3.1.4 Sa
jñā–Chāyā symbolism
Doniger notes the bridging between the tales of the Sun and the DM at
several junctures in her work; in Splitting the Difference, for example, she
notes that “the story of Samjna and her shadow stands at the threshold of
another tradition, the beginning of the incorporation of the worship of the
Goddess into Sanskrit texts” (Doniger 1999, 55). She similarly remarks in
her article on Sarathat the MkP “uses the story of Sajñā to introduce
the Devī Māhātmya [serving] as a bridge to, and perhaps a validation of,
the new Purāic myth about a Goddess, Devī Mahīamardinī (Doniger
1996, 163). But what is it about the story of Sajñā that warrants its use as
a foyer into the grandeur of the great Goddess? Doniger suggests that the
story of Sajñā would be “very important indeed, given that she is the
ancestor of the human race. In the context of a Purāa that is so concerned
with dynasties, this Ur-mother is clearly crucial” (Doniger 1996, 163).
Indeed, we hear of the tale first in the manvantara section, detailing the
origins of the succession of Manus, and hear of it again along with other
myths of the Sun to kick off the genealogies section of the MkP. But one
nevertheless wonders how much we read into this emphasis, given the quest
for Ur-tales bequeathed to us by our scholarly forefathers. Doniger further
remarks that:
since the Markandeya Purana tells the tale of Samjna not once but
twice and regards her as the mother of the Manu who rules in our age,
the whole Devimahatmya is, in a sense, a footnote to the story of the
shadow of Saranyu.
(Doniger 1999, 55)
However, the fact that the Sajñā myth is told twice is not necessarily
indicative of its double importance (as compared to the DM), but rather, of
its framing function of the DM; it is told, as noted above, before and after
the DM, and succeeds in introducing and thematically contextualizing the
exploits of the Goddess, serving as preceding and subsequent narrative
associates to the grandeur of the Goddess. From the perspective of the DM
which glorifies the great goddess whose might surpasses even the
creators, and whose grace is responsible for installing the next Manu it is
the story of Sajñā which ornaments, and echoes, the greatness of the
goddess. But why would this be? What direction might we take about the
exchange between Sūrya, Sajñā and Chāyā, which would orient us in
broaching the Goddess of the DM?
That the names Sajñā and Chāyā were incorporated in this mythology,
replacing Sara and Sāvarā, is surely a very significant Purāic
development. Had the authors of the Purāic myths of the Sun intended to
invoke only Saraand Sāvarā, they would have. Clearly, they intend to
connote another layer of association, if not a transformation altogether,
through their act of renaming. While the exchange in the Vedic mythology
centred around the mortality of the Sun, this could not possibly be the case
in the episodes we find in the MkP where the Sun is not only immortal, but
accorded as the prime cause of all creation. It is understandable why the
ancient Vedic poet-seers would be inspired to elect the Sun as a signifier for
mortality, as it is born and dies with each passing day. Furthermore, its
natural affinity with fire makes it readily relatable to the sacrificial fires,
and the incessant ritual process whereby enjoyments are procured for the
sake of ameliorating mortal existence. Yet the Purāic poets’ laudation of
the Sun modifies this model of mortality, succeeding to radically reform it,
resurrecting it beyond the shadow of death in which it lies in Vedic times.
This transformation befits the vision of the Sun to be found in
contemporary (and lasting) astrological texts wherein the maker of day
symbolizes the “the soul of all” (sarvātmān) (BPH 3), that is, the eternal
and immortal presence which graces the bodies of all sentient life. The Sun
in this context is no mortal being, to be sure. It stands to reason then,
especially given the incorporation of the names Sajñā and Chāyā, that the
Purāic mythology of the Sun underscores the interplay between light and
dark, rather than the tension between the mortal male and the immortal
female.
One readily loses sight of this transformation when one reads these
accounts throughout the Vedic accounts of the goddess Sarayū, which is a
practice no more inappropriate than measuring the use of any given word
by its more ancient etymological precursors. Any given word will
invariably be assigned different associations and nuances, and even entirely
different concepts and applications, as it filters down through the cultural
ages and the same applies to religious symbols, deified or otherwise. We
catch only a fleeting a glimmer of this interplay in the work of Wendy
Doniger who, following Lommel, notes that “the alternation between light
and dark, together with the relationship with the Sun, may suggest that
Sajñā is a riddle for Sandhyā, dawn: the Doppelganger woman is then
evening twilight, and the Sun has two wives” (Doniger 1980, 177). It is
perhaps in invocation of this riddle of the Sun and his two consorts/powers
that immediately before the Goddess is first introduced in the DM, Sage
Medhas instructs Suratha (in his explication to the extent to which all
creatures are under the phenomenal veil of occlusion, generated by the
power of the Goddess) that “Some creatures are blind by day, while others
are blind by night:/While others still see equally by day and by night” (DM
1.35) (Balkaran 2020). Some creatures awaken at dawn (sandhyā), while
otherwise arise at dusk (chāyā), both of which junctures are created by the
motion of the Sun.
Doniger takes Sajñā to mean sign, image, or name (Doniger 1996,
158) which of course it does, particularly in the Mahābhārata where,
coupled with the verb to do (k
), it means to give a signal. While the
abstract feminine noun Sajñā meaning sign, token, or signal itself makes
for a fitting appellation for one signalling the presence of both shadow and
light, all the more so does its deeper meaning (stemming from a time as
early as the Śatapaha Brāhmaa) of “consciousness”, or “clear knowledge
or understanding or notion or conception”.5 In a sense, it connotes the
“clear seeing” occasioned by the dawn (sa
dhyā), and it is thus no wonder
it was accorded to the consort of the source of universal illumination, the
Sun, maker of dawn and enabler of sight alike. Sight is a power6
accompanying the Sun. The name of Sajñā’s cloned-counterpart, Chāyā,
means “shadow” or “reflection” as noted above. With respect to her role as
a power (śakti) of the Sun, she represents his ability to cast shadows and
reflections whenever anyone stands before him. It is because of the Sun’s
megalomaniacal magnanimity that he loses Sajñā (clarity) and gains
Chāyā (shadow), a shadow, which he himself casts by his excessive, self-
absorbed splendour. The Sun creates dawn but, ironically, also creates dusk.
His movements make both day and night. In a sense, then, Sūrya possesses
two śaktis, akin to the double faces of the Goddess of our text – he power to
illumine and reveal (as personified by Sajñā), and the power to darken
and conceal (as personified by Chāyā). The Goddess complete and in no
need of consort must in one fell swoop represent the trinity of this self-
effulgent primal being and the paradox of his oppositional powers of
illumination and occlusion alike.
Occlusion, too, has a vital role to play in the cosmic sphere, for Shadow
(Chāyā) not only mothers the Lord of an Age, the next Manu, but does so
through the establishment of a blessing of the Goddess of the DM who
represents both dark and light: both Sajñā, the śakti of illumination and
Chāyā, the śakti of occlusion in the form of māyā. As such, in one of the
invocatory hymns of the DM, the gods of heaven praise the Goddess as
existing in all creatures as both “the māyā of Viṣṇu” and as the principle of
“consciousness” (DM 5.12). A few verses down, she is specifically praised
as residing in all creatures in the form of shadow (chāyā) (DM 5.17). These
laudations of the Goddess occurring in the heart of the text as the occlusive
power of shadow lends credence to the argument that the DM’s frame
narrative exalting king Suratha to become the son of Sūrya, by Chāyā
are far from afterthought conceits contrived by śākta interpolators but,
rather, are the narrative design of the DM that is symbiotically linked to the
fabric of the MkP (and consciously so), particularly as manifest through its
structural similitude with the stories of the Sun therein. This suggestion
shall be supported in the discussion that follows. The following section of
this chapter argues that the myth of the Sun and his wife Sajñā in fact
encode the astronomical position of the Sun at the time of the Navarātra
festival, when the DM is ritually chanted across India.
3.2 Equine exegesis
While the Purāas indeed make reference to the navarātra festival (Einoo
1999), it is intriguing that both the DM and MkP are silent on the matter. Or
are they? Sajñā generates two guises: one of the same form and different
essence, Chāyā, representing shadow and reflection alike, while the second
guise is of another form altogether, disguised as a mare. The text gives no
reason, in either telling of the myth found on the MkP, as to why Sajñā
need chose the form of a mare. Her equine transformation is particularly
perplexing given that she chooses this form in order to perform austerities.
One associates neither a seated posture, nor stillness, nor yet denial with the
nature of horses. Rather, one more readily associates movement,
exploration, and celebration with them. Further still, we cannot perceive
any cause for the Sun to engage Sajñā in equine form, rather than to
present his splendid pared down form itself. If the purpose of Sajñā’s
mare garb was to perform austerities so that her husband might become
milder, then would her form not be obsolete at that point in the story? Yet
this appears to be an aspect of Sajñā’s (and Sarayū’s) story preserved
across the millennia. Goldman, too, notes that “the point of her assuming
the form of a mare is not clear aside from the etymological association with
the name Aśvins. In short, the mythologist is presented with a great
problem by this story. What does it represent?” (Goldman 1969, 277–8).
Interestingly enough, I believe that the answer to this question implicates
yet another narrative oddity: why does Sajñā not merely gallop away
from the strange male if she was so intent upon guarding her rear? I argue
that this face-to-face equine encounter is a preconceived narrative
destination, and the authors of the MkP take whatever creative turns
necessary to drive us there. Sajñā’s fear serves as an impetus for a
seminal plot development: in protecting her rear, she spins around so as to
enable intimate nose-to-nose engagement. At this point, one might infer that
she is aware that the potentially threatening mare is her husband in the form
of a stallion (particular since the narrative offers no subsequent moment
wherein she makes this realization). Regardless, she appears to willingly
engage a face-to-face encounter with the stallion, under the narrative
pretence of guarding her rear. This movement is crucial. What Doniger
refers to as a “gloss” which is “untrue to the original spirit of the myth”
(Doniger 1980, 185) is more likely a clever narrative trope deployed for the
sake of occasioning a crucial and lasting element of this myth cycle: the
birthing of equine twins through the nostrils of the equine Sun. And this
birthing is equally crucial to bridging the DM and its solar frame. In order
to understand the significance of this trope, the Indian mythologist must
turn to perhaps the most ancient avenue of mythic narrative: astrological
mythology, that is, stories about the stars.
The Purāas, in their current form, are generally attributed to the
flourishing of the Gupta Empire, and so too, is classical Indian astrology,
Jyotia (Pingree 1977, VI: 11). The MkP betrays at several junctures
knowledge of, and reliance upon, the principles of Jyotia with respect to:
1) ascribing categorical astrological signifiers for people and geographical
locations; 2) ritual timing; 3) in conjunction with life decisions; and 4) in
casting a horoscope at the time of birth (jātaka). With respect to the first of
these, in his discourse wherein all of India is configured as resting upon
Viṣṇu in his tortoise incarnation, Mārkaṇḍeya explains (in Canto 58) the
various asterisms assigned to each part of the tortoise, that is, each part of
India and the people thereat (MkP 58). With respect to ritual timing, Queen
Madālasā schools her son Alarka on the various benefits of ancestor
worship (śrāddha pūjā) when the moon is conjoined in the various
nakatras (MkP 33). With respect to the third aforementioned category, the
MkP presents two notable examples where astrologers were consulted by
kings in order to ascertain auspicious timing for undertaking certain actions.
First, when King Rājyavardhana decides to renounce his kingdom, he
“enquired of the astrologers about the best days and moments for anointing
his son in the kingdom” (MkP 109.38) (Pargiter 1904, 580). Second, when
princess Vaiśālinī, at her svayamvara, did not chose any of the potential
bridegrooms present, her father, the king, enquires of the astrologer for the
most auspicious day for her marriage, to which query the astrologer replies:
“there will be, O king, other days here, characterized by excellent
conjunctures, auspicious, and after no long delay. Thou shalt perform the
wedding when they have arrived, O bestower of honour. Enough of this day,
wherein a great obstacle has presented itself, O noble Sir!” (MkP 123.25–
27) (Pargiter 1904, 631). Finally, with respect to the fourth of the
aforementioned astrological applications to be found in the MkP (i.e.
casting a horoscope at the time of birth), we find in the text a remarkable
example. At the time of his son’s birth, King Karandhama “asked the
astrologers who could read fate ‘I trust my son is born under an
excellent constellation, at an excellent conjuncture?’ (MkP 122.4)
(Pargiter 1904, 626). The astrologers reported that:
When the moment, the constellation and the conjuncture have been
excellent, thy son has been born to be great in valour, great in his parts,
great in strength. O great king, thy son shall be a great king. The planet
Jupiter, preceptor of the gods, has looked on him, and Venus which is
the seventh and the Moon the fourth planet has looked upon this thy
son and Soma’s son Mercury also, which is stationed at the edge has
guarded him. The Sun has not looked on him; nor has Mars or Saturn
looked on thy son, O great king. Happy is this thy son! he will be
endowed with all good fortune and prosperity.
(MkP 122.4) (Pargiter 1904, 626)
The king, of course, was quite gladdened by his astrologers’ forecast. He
appears to trust completely both in the skill of his court astrologers and in
the principles of Jyotia themselves in order to render accurate information
about the nature and destiny of an individual. He makes a most remarkable
reply to his astrologers at this point:
The preceptor of the gods has looked on him, and so has Soma’s son
Mercury. The Sun has not looked on him, nor has the Sun’s son nor
Mars. This word “Has looked upon” of that ye, sirs, have uttered often,
– celebrated by reason of it his name shall be Avīkshita.
(MkP 122.4) (Pargiter 1904, 626)
e
e
e
The faith that King Karandhama puts in his court astrologers is so central to
this episode, that he ends up naming his son Avīkita, based on the
astrological terminology. The MkP examples mentioned thus make specific
references to the mechanics and usages of Jyotia. For the ensuing
discussion, I draw upon two standard Sanskrit treatises outlining the
mechanics of classical Jyotia: the B
hat Parāśara Hora (BPH) ascribed to
sage Parāśara and the B
hat Jātaka (BJ) ascribed to Varāhamahira.
David Pingree (the author of the Jyotiśāstra volume of Gonda’s History
of Indian Luterature) places the BPH between 600–750 , and places the
work of Varāhamihira (who was at the court of Chandragupta II) in the sixth
century, and notes that his BJ “became the model for much of the
subsequent Sanskrit literature on jātaka, and remains the most authoritative
text-book on the subject today” (Pingree 1977, VI: 84–85). Interestingly, he
traces much of its contents to Sphujidhvaja’s Yavanajātaka in 269/270
during the reign of the Western Ksatrapa Rudrasena II, which itself was a
versification of a Sanskrit translation of a Greek astrological text in 149–
150 , probably at the court of the Western Ksatrapa Rudradaman in
Ujjayinī. Therefore, most of the contents of the sixth-century BJ correspond
to those of second-century YJ. As an aside, while Pingree’s work on the
historical transmission of Jyoti Śāstra is indeed commendable, he does not
seem to convey an appreciation for the fact that classical Indian vidyās,
such as Jyotia, were by and large esoteric, and transmitted orally, where
the extant text was used as a prop for oral elucidation. Therefore, comments
such as “it would not have been possible to compute planetary positions
with only the information in the texts as extant; their original forms were
presumably more complete” (Pingree 1977, VI: 11) are highly problematic.
The movements of the heavenly bodies are accompanied not only by
techniques of interpretation and prediction, but also by rich and ancient
narratives narratives which, as shall be made clear, find themselves at
home in Purāic literature. An explicit example of this is to be found in
Canto 75 of the MkP, which tells of the exploits of the constellation Revatī
(technically, one of the lunar asterisms, or nak
atras, discussed below)
which fell to earth due to Sage Ra-vāc’s curse (see Pargiter 1904, 443–9).
Similarly, the symbolism of horses is not only thematically apropos to the
mythology of the Sun insofar as seven swift horses draw the chariot of the
Sun across the sky “ever unwearied” (MkP 197.8), but particularly because
horses symbolize the half-equine Aśvin twins whose genesis the myth
relays; the same twins after which the lunar asterism (nak
atra) Aśvini, is
named. The use of nak
atras for ritual and predictive purposes has
persisted since Vedic times: these lunar mansions represent the oldest strata
of Indian astrology, and quite possibly, encapsulate some of the most
ancient extant South Asian narrative motifs in their mythologies. There are
twenty-seven lunar asterisms, whose zodiacal arc necessarily occupy one-
twenty-seventh of the 360-degree orb of the sky. Hence each asterism
occupies 13 degrees and 20-arc minutes (or one-third of a degree) of
zodiacal arc. We must note further that of the twenty-seven lunar asterisms,
Aśvini is the first, and commences the Zodiac, occupying the first 13
degrees and 20-arc seconds of Aries, the first zodiacal sign. The ‘twins’ of
this asterism appear in the sky astronomically as the stars β and γ Arietis.
Unsurprisingly, this asterism governs all things equine in the world. For
example, Queen Madālasā informs Alarka that “one attains horses when
performing the śrāddha while the moon is conjoined Aśvini nakatra”
(33.16) (Pargiter 1904, 170). That association between Aśvini and all things
equine is so perennial in Indian mythology can be corroborated not only in
the etymology of the very name of the nakatra, but, to my knowledge, all
accounts of the birthing of the Aśvins (the half-equine presiding deities of
this nakatra) entail the Sun and his wife entering equine form in order to
birth them. But why must these parents be the Sun and his wife?
The BPH introduces the nine planets as the Sun, the Moon, Mars,
Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, Saturn, Rahu, and Ketu (BPH 3.10). Each planet
serves as signifier for a multitude of aspects of the phenomenal universe: to
put it differently, each aspect of the known universe is ascribed to the sway
of one of the nine planets. The BPH specifies what is foremost represented
by each planet with respect to human beings, stating that “the Sun is the
soul of all. The moon is the mind. Mars is one’s strength. Mercury is the
speech giver while Jupiter confers knowledge and happiness. Venus
governs semen (potency) while Saturn indicates grief” (BPH 3.12–13)
(Sharma 1994, 17). Note that while the Sun is accorded primacy, as the soul
of all, it is Venus which represents sexuality and procreation. Venus is
considered one of the benefic plants in Jyotia, whereas the Sun is
considered a (minor) malefic, probably owing to its intensity. This concept
is actually encapsulated in the MkP as follows:
When [Avīkita] was born, the king asked the astrologers who could
read fate –” I trust my son is born under an excellent constellation, at
an excellent conjuncture? And I trust that benignant planets have
looked upon my son’s birth; I trust it did not pass into the path of view
of evil planets? When addressed thus by him, the astrologers spake
then to the king –” When the moment, the constellation and the
conjuncture have been excellent, thy son has been born to be great in
valour, great in his parts, great in strength. O great king, thy son shall
be a great king. The planet Jupiter, preceptor of the gods, has looked on
him, and Venus which is the seventh and the Moon the fourth planet
has looked upon this thy son and Soma’s son Mercury also, which is
stationed at the edge has guarded him. The Sun has not looked on him;
nor has Mars or Saturn looked on thy son, O great king. Happy is this
thy son! he will be endowed with all good fortune and prosperity.
(MkP 122) (Pargiter 1904, 625–6)
Venus is often personified as a goddess of fertility throughout the Indian
(Lakmī) and Near Eastern world (e.g. Ishtar to the Babylonians, Isis to the
Egyptians, Aphrodite to the Greek, and, of course, the Goddess Venus to the
Romans from whence the name comes down to us). It represents not only
sexual reproduction, but also sensual and aesthetic experience at large. It is
telling that the most common name for this planet in Sanskrit and its
derivatives is śukra, the word for semen itself. It is understood as a moist
planet since moisture is, of course, necessary for life. The Sun, on the other
hand, is a dry, hot planet. The Sun is not a suitable symbol for semen: it
represents hotness and dryness, both of which threaten seminal health.
The Sun’s role in fathering the foremost of these lunar mansions is
definitely fitting for a myth wherein he is lauded as the primal universal
principle. In the astrological myth, he seeds the beginnings of the zodiac
(the universe of Jyotia, the backdrop against which all heavenly action
takes place), while in the myths of the MkP, he seeds creation itself (the
phenomenal universe). However, his association with the Aśvins long
predates the grandeur he is accorded in the Purāas, and was present even
when he was a mere mortal in Vedic times. Jyotia informs us that all of the
planets acquire different degrees of strength in different signs. For example,
Jupiter, being a watery planet, attains its peak performance in Cancer, the
most watery of zodiacal signs. Whether or not these ascriptions were ever
based on experience of the natural planets, there can be little doubt that the
states accorded to the Sun as it passed through the zodiac were based on its
palpable effect on the planet, particularly in an equatorial climate. The Sun,
being fire itself, therefore acquires its state of peak performance (exaltation,
ucca) in the fiery sign of Aries. The strength it acquires as it passes through
Aries is expressed on earth as the coming of spring. The BPH therefore
states that “Aries, Taurus, Capricorn, Virgo, Cancer, Pisces, and Libra have
been spoken of respectively from the Sun on, as the signs of exaltation of
the seven planets” (BPH 2.49) (Sharma 1994, 36). But given that there are
twelve zodiacal signs and twenty-seven lunar asterisms, each sign will
contain within it two and a fraction asterisms. Therefore, the sign of Aries
would be home to three lunar asterisms: aśvinī, bharaī, and the first bit of
ktikkā. Why is the Sun tied to only the first of these asterisms? The answer
again lies in Indian astrological understandings. There is a particular point
within the entire sign which is considered the very plexus (yoga tārā) of
exaltation. For example, if one were to visualize a comfortable sign as
warm room, the point of greatest heat would be the fireplace. This occurs at
10 degrees of Aries, which falls within the arc of aśvinī nakatra. The BPH
states that “The deepest exaltation degrees in these planets are respectively
10, 3, 28, 15, 5, 27, 20” (BPH 2.50) (Sharma 1994, 36). Furthermore, it tell
us that Aries (to which it ascribes characteristics, along with all of the other
zodiacal signs), among other things, is a quadruped, possesses a bulky body,
is of royal caste, and wanders through hills (BPH 4.6) (Sharma 1994, 54).
As the BPH states that “The deepest exaltation degrees in these planets are
respectively 10, 3, 28, 15, 5, 27, 20. And the 7th sign from the said
exaltation sign each planet has its debilitation to the same degrees” (BPH
2.50) (Sharma 1994, 36).
In taking direction from ancient Indian astrological mythology, the
mythologist is, perhaps at long last, equipped to understand why the Sun
and Sajñā take equine form and encounter each other in the Northern
Kurus in order to birth the Aśvins. It is a mythic representation of the
annual exaltation of the Sun as it approaches 10 degrees of Aries and
conjoins in the asterism of Aśvini. Furthermore, in attempting to understand
why the sparse akhyāna hymns are part of the Vedic tradition, scholars such
as Oldenberg posit the presence of non-Vedic “popular” traditions existing
alongside the Brahmanic priestly cult. Goldman notes:
that such “popular” cults existed cannot be very well questioned.
Indeed, the evidence of the Purāas seems to indicate that many of the
elements of Hinduism are at least as old as much of the Vedic
literature. Yet, even so, the question of how and why elements of the
popular mythos came to be incorporated into the sacred texts of the
Vedic ṛṣis remains with all its original force.
(Goldman 1969, 274)
With respect to the akhyāna hymns depicting the birthing of the Aśvins by
the Sun in equine form, one answer to the question of why it was thus
assembled into the Vedic corpus is because its assemblers were well aware
that it represented an astronomical reality which would certainly carry
significance for Vedic ritual timing. By drawing from astrological literature,
we might of course explain the association with the Sun’s potency, and he
and Sajñā taking horse form and journeying into the countryside in
episodes found in the MkP but one crucial detail remains, which I
promised above to account for: why must they engage face-to-face?
Corroborating the extent to which the myth of the Sun and Sajñā is
inextricable to astrological understandings of the Sun’s journey through the
zodiac, we can again take direction from jyoti
śāstra with respect to why
the Sun and Sajñā encounter each other face-to-face. Each zodiacal sign
is represented by a region of the body. The BJ specifies that on the scale of
the full body, Aries represents the head itself (BJ 1.4). Furthermore, each of
the twelve zodiacal signs is symbolized by a part of the face.7 The nose
symbolizes the sign of Aries, in which sits the lunar asterism Aśvini. It is to
embellish this nasal association that the poet has equine-Sajñā turn about,
under the pretence of guarding her rear, conceiving the Aśvins by sniffing
the tejas of the Sun.8 The myth draws from the understanding that the Sun
acquires its state of exaltation (ucca) when it sits in Aries (since this
coincides with the coming of spring, around the time of the vernal equinox),
conjoined the asterism of Aśvini. So, the myth encodes the cultural
understanding that Aśvin twins originate in Aries (represented by the nose),
powered by the Sun’s exaltation therein (represented by their spawning by
the Sun’s stallion-form). Adding yet another dimension to the astrological
associations to this myth is the character of Revanta, about which we know
nothing more of than what we hear in the myth of the Aśvins’ birth. This
suggests to me he is merely a supporting actor in the story of the Sun and
the aśvins; the name Revanta might very well be read as a pun in the form
of a contraction of ‘Revatī’, the final asterism ending the constellation
Pisces, immediately before the start of Aries, and ‘anta’ the termination
thereof. Therefore, the Aśvins are born (where Aśvini commences) in
conjunction with Revanta, at the end of Revatī.
The myths of the Sun not only serve the DM thematically but also with
respect to the ritual timing of its annual recitation at the navarātra (nine
nights) festivities dedicated to the Great Goddess. The Goddess festival
takes place at two annual junctures, the first nine nights of Āśvina, when the
full moon is in Aśvini (and the Sun is in Citrā), and in Caitra, when the full
moon is in Citra (and the Sun is in Aśvini). To demonstrate this linkage, we
again draw from texts on Jyotia. The Sun attains its greatest power in
Aries, conjoined Aśvini nakatra, in the springtime during its equine
equinox. Conversely, it is at its weakest (described in a fallen state, nicca),
six months later, at the time of the autumnal equinox. At this time, the Sun
sits 180 degrees away, in the constellation of Libra. As stated in the BJ, the
Sun “is most exalted in the 10th degree of Aries” and it is “considered as
the most debilitated 180 degrees away from the degree of exaltation” (BJ
1.13) (Sastri 1995, 17), that is, at the 10th degree of Libra. This time of year
brings with it the lunar month Āśvina, marked by the full moon in the
constellation Aries (conjoined Aśvini nakatra) 180 degrees away from the
“fallen” Sun, stationed in the constellation Libra.9 And it is exactly at this
time of year when, due to the fallen state of solar energy in the cosmos, that
the grand Goddess festival takes place. It occurs on the first nine nights of
the waxing moon headed towards its fullness in the asterism aśvinī, and is a
time when the Devī Māhātmya (detailing the acts of Durgā and her
reinstatement of the fallen kingship of Suratha, and her deliverance of the
promise of a future Manu), is ritually chanted throughout the Hindu world.
The DM, as noted, commences and concludes with invoking the Sun.
Therefore, the mythologies of the Sun offer more than a narrative corollary;
they serve to contextualize its ritual life, affording direction and
justification for the annual juncture most auspicious for the chanting of the
text.
Hillary Rodrigues traces the Sanskrit liturgy of the pan-Indic autumnal
festival in honour of the Hindu Great Goddess (primarily in the form of
Durgā, the Impassable, who is equated with the Goddess of the DM), which
occurs during the first nine nights of the waxing moon commencing on the
Indian (lunar) month of Āśvina. In many homes, the DM (also referred to as
the DurSaptaśatī in ritual context) is chanted daily during the course of
the festival. This study constitutes an exhaustive description of a Bengali
style form of ritual worship of DurPūjā, which takes place in the sacred
city of Banaras. Rodrigues expounds the overt connection between the
grand ritual and its mythic heritage in his discussion of the extent to which
the clay image complexes erected for the festival “clearly forges a
relationship between Purāic myth and the ritual” (Rodrigues 2003, 50).
The complexes do so by enacting the demon-slaying exploits of the DM,
particularly in Episode II where the Durgā slays Mahīāsura, an episode
that also, as Rodrigues notes, echoes elsewhere in the Purāic corpus.10 In
the context of the gathered masses at the Goddess festival, Rodrigues
designates Durgā as,
the monarch for whom the people have gathered in a display of service,
loyalty and devotion. In their numbers, and in their visible and
verbalized sentiments of revelry and unity, they have a vision (darśana)
of their own power, and with it, the certitude of being victorious in any
undertaking. This vision of the victorious power (vijayā śakti) that
permeates the community of worshippers, binding them in a union
characterized by joy and fearlessness, is implicitly a view of the
manifest form of the Goddess.
(Rodrigues 2003, 296)
It is this spirit of motherly protection of sovereign empowerment, which
characterizes the Goddess of our text, the same characterization which, as
Rodrigues notes, pervades also her festival. It is quite telling that he elects
the word “monarch” to describe the Goddess.
Through the chanting of the DM at this annual juncture, the waning Sun
is ameliorated by the grace of the Goddess whose role it is to keep darkness
(which, paradoxically, she also represents) at bay, and so, too, is the waning
energy of sovereignty, of righteous regulation throughout the universe.
Therefore, in invoking the majesty of the Goddess, one also invokes the
majesty of the Sun. And this majesty is more than inferred, or figurative,
insofar as Jyotiical texts specifically equate the solar and the royal. For
example, according the BPH “the Sun and the Moon are of royal status”
(BPH 3.14–15) (Sharma 1994, 19)11 a notion which is echoed verbatim in
Varāhamahira’s BJ (2.1). Royal figures in the Indian context carry not only
associations of regality and magnanimity (as, of course, in any cultural
context), but equally carry sanguinary associations: to be a king in ancient
India (and in the Indian literary imagination) is to necessarily be a warrior
bar none. And our Jyotiical texts are also happy to point this out. The
BPH, while assigning castes to all of the planets, unsurprisingly assigns the
Sun the caste of katriya,12 a trope that is echoed at BJ 2.6. It is perhaps for
this very reason that both the Sun and Mars are accorded “dark red” (rakta
śyāma
) at both BJ 2.4 and BPH,13 whereas only Mars appears dark red to
the naked eye. Thus, the majestic and sanguinary aspects of the Goddess are
appropriately framed in the MkP by those of the Sun, since both Goddess
and Sun are emblematic of the archetypal Indian sovereign.
Pintchman offers a lucid analysis of the role that the three feminine
philosophical principles play in various Purāic cosmogonic accounts
(Pintchman 1994, 117–84). She orders her discussion in accordance to the
first two of the five Purāic marks (pañcalak
a
as): primary creation
(sarga) and secondary creation (pratisarga) accordingly. This is
unsurprising considering her emphasis on cosmogony. However, her study
offers no discourse on the Goddesses’ role in the remaining three of the five
Purāic marks: the genealogies of sages and kings (va
śa), Manu-interval
discourse (manvantara), and the dynasties of sages and kings
(va
śānucarita). This absence of manvantara discourse is especially
notable given that the DM introduces her as she by whose grace Sāvari
attains Manuhood. We are then told that the Manu Sāvari will be an
incarnation of an earthly king, Suratha. Clearly the Great Goddess plays a
central cosmogonic role; however, her role as creator is as if eclipsed by her
role as preserver of the cosmos. C. Mackenzie Brown, on the other hand,
observes that “the frame story serves textually to situate the glorification
of the Goddess within the larger context of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a as a
whole” wherein “the Devī Māhātmya is widely recognized as an
interpolation” since “nowhere else in the Mārkaṇḍeya do we meet with the
Śākta themes articulated so artfully and forcefully in the Devī Māhātmya
(Brown 1990, 157–9). Yet, both the artistry and the force of these themes
are enhanced when underscored by their frame narrative, which described
the making of a Manu, and this research demonstrates the significance of
doing so. The commencement of the glories of the Goddess invoke the
1
2
3
4
making of a Manu, and in doing so, point directly to the glories of the Sun,
where from we may receive both thematic direction in how to understand
the glories of the Goddess, and ritual direction on when to incant these
glories. Hence, the bridge between DM and MkP is brightened by the
splendour of the Sun. In light of this, it is likely that the MkP was not only
deliberately selected for the placement of the DM, but that the very juncture
within the MkP where it occurs was not without careful consideration.
Furthermore, the term “placement” is inapt with respect to how the DM
relates to the MkP as a whole: rather than constituting a discreet, self-
contained composition, one mechanically inserted into the MkP by virtue of
the flimsy framing conceits contrived by haphazard śākta interpolators, the
DM betrays a compositional process cognizant of the content of the MkP,
especially the mythologies of the Sun housed therein.
Wendy Doniger has written profusely on Hindu mythology throughout her career. Hers has
certainly been the most acclaimed scholarly pen of the last half-century to have drawn from the
ink of Purāic lore. Western scholars of Purāa are deeply indebted to her work and as a
discipline, the extent of her influence on approaches to Hindu myth is only beginning to
become clear. While Doniger has written voluminously on Indian mythology, this discussion
confines itself to her work on the mythology of the Sun and his wife, Sajñā, as appearing in
the MkP.
The list of textual sources is as follows:
g Veda 10.17.1–2: Nirukta 12.10: Śatapatha
Brāhma
a 1.1.4.14; Taittrīya Brāhama
a 1.1.4.4; 1.1.9.10; 3.2.5.9; Taittrīya Sa
hitā 2.6.7.1;
6.5.6.1; 6.6.6.1; Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a 103–105; Mahābhārata 1.66; Brahmā
ṇḍ
a Purā
a
3.59–60; Matsya Purā
a 11; Padma Purā
a 5.8; Vāyu Purā
a 2.3; Vi
ṣṇ
u Purā
a 3.2;
Gopatha Brāhama
a 1.1.3 (Doniger 1976, 349).
Corroboration of the primary meaning of the word tejas can be taken from its antithesis: atejas.
The Monier-Williams entry for the antonym at hand specifies the following meanings: “n.
absence of brightness or vigour”; “dimness, shade, shadow”; “feebleness, dullness,
insignificance”; “not bright, dim, not vigorous”. While the listlessness associated with these
meanings can surely be symbolically applied to render a sense of (sexual) impotence, seminal
fluid is far from the primary connotation of the term tejas. Furthermore, the verbal root tij
(which, as mentioned, means to “be or become sharp”, does not carry with it the connotation of
‘to inseminate.’)
Mārkaṇḍeya describes the Northern Kurus thus:
Next I will tell thee of the Northern Kurus; hearken to me now. There the trees yield sweet
fruit, they bear blossoms and fruit in constant succession; and they produce garments and
ornaments inside their fruits; verily they bestow all one’s desire; they yield fruit according to
all one’s desire. The ground abounds with precious stones; the air is fragrant and always
delightful. Mankind are born there, when they quit the world of the gods. They are born in
pairs; the pairs abide an equal time, and are as fond of each other as c’akravakas. Their stay
there is fourteen and a half thousands of years indeed. And C’andra-kanta is the chief of the
mountains, and Surya-kanta is the next; they are the two mountain ranges in that continent.
And in the midst thereof the great river Bhadra-soma flows through the earth with a volume
of sacred and pure water. And there are other rivers by thousands in that northern continent;
and some flow with milk and others flow with ghee. And there are lakes of curdled milk
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
there, and others lie among the various hills. And fruits of various kinds, which taste rather
like amta, are produced by hundreds and thousands in the woods in those continents.
(MkP 59.18–26) (Pargiter 1904, 389)
It can either be taken as the verbal root jñā’ (to know) conjoined with the verbal prefix sa
’,
giving the sense of ‘to agree with’, ‘to be in harmony with’, or ‘to understand well’. In this
vein, its abstract noun correlate can also mean “agreement”. Monier-Williams specifically
listed: “the wife of the Sun”. Furthermore, while Sajñā connotes “consciousness, clear
knowledge or understanding or notion or conception” from the times of the Śatapaha
Brāhmaa onwards, Doniger (for the sake of her argument), tends to favour “a sign, token,
signal, gesture (with the hand, eyes, etc)” as occurring in kāvya and the Mahābhārata (Monier-
Williams et al. 2008).
The word śakti dually denotes “consort” as well as “power”, and therefore the consort of any
given deity functions by and large as the particular power of that deity. For example, the
goddess of material comfort, Lakmī, is the consort of the cosmic preserver, Viṣṇu: thus,
Viṣṇu is preserved through material comfort. Similarly, the goddess of creativity (both artistic
and literary) is Sarasvatī, who is the śakti (power/consort) of the creator, Brahmā, himself.
Aries is symbolized by the nose, Leo and Cancer by the right and left eye respectively, Libra
and Taurus by right and left cheek respectively, Scorpio by the mouth, Sagittarius and Pisces by
right and left ear respectively, Gemini and Virgo by right and left forehead respectively, and
Aquarius and Capricorn by right and left chin respectively.
One wonders whether or not this myth also symbolizes the Āyurvedic herb, aśvagandha,
particularly given the association of aśvini nak
atra and medicinal herbs.
The myth of Sūrya’s hammering down is the myth of his movement from the constellation Citrā
(which is owned by Aryamān, his father-in-law), to that of Aśvini, which is owned by the
Aśvins.
The Goddesses encounter (and inevitably defeat) the demon Mahīa in the following Purāas:
Kālikā Devī Bhāgavata, Skanda, Vāmana and Varāha.
The verse continues, “and Mars is the army chief; Mercury is the prince apparent and Jupiter
and Venus are ministerial planets. Saturn is servant and Rahu and Ketu form the planetary
army.”
The caste allotments for all of the planets are as follows: Jupiter and Venus as the royal
counsellors (the former sacred, the later secular) are Brahmins, the Sun and Mars are Katriyas,
the Moon and Mercury are Vaiśyas, while Saturn is the śūdra, that is, servant (BPH 3.21)
(Sharma 1994, 24–5).
The entire verse reads:
The Sun, the Lord of the Day, is blood-red, the Moon is tawny. Mars whose stature is not high
is blood-red, while Mercury is akin to that of grass. O Brahmin shrestha, Jupiter, Venus, and
Saturn should ne known as tawny, variegated and dark.
(BPH 3.16–17) (Sharma 1994, 20)
Works cited in this chapter
Balkaran, Raj. 2018. “The Splendor of the Sun: Brightening the Bridge between Mārkaṇḍeya
Purāa and Devī Māhātmya in Light of Navarātri Ritual Timing”. In Nine Nights of the Goddess:
The Navarātri Festival in South Asia, edited by Caleb Simmons, Hillary Rodrigues and Moumita
Sen, 23–38. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.
Balkaran, Raj. 2019. “The Story of Sajñā, Mother of Manu: Shadow and Light in the Mārkaṇḍeya
Purāa”. In The Bloomsbury Research Handbook on Indian Philosophy and Gender, edited by
Veena R Howard, 267–96. New York: Bloomsbury Publishing.
Balkaran, Raj. 2020. “A Tale of Two Boons: The Goddess and the Dharmic Double Helix”. In The
Purā
a Reader, edited by Deven Patel and Dheepa Sundaram. San Diego, CA: Cognella
Academic Publishing.
Brown, Cheever Mackenzie. 1990. The Triumph of the Goddess the Canonical Models and
Theological Visions of the Devī-Bhāgavata Purā
a. Albany, NY: State University of New York
Press.
Doniger O’Flaherty, Wendy. 1973. Asceticism and Eroticism in the Mythology of the Śiva. London:
Oxford University Press.
Doniger, Wendy. 1976. The Origins of Evil in Hindu Mythology. Berkeley, CA: University of
California Press.
Doniger, Wendy. 1980. Women, Androgynes, and Other Mythical Beasts. Chicago, IL: University of
Chicago Press.
Doniger, Wendy. 1996. “Sarayū/Sajñā: The Sun and The Shadow”. In John Stratton Hawley and
Donna Marie Wulff (eds), Devī: Goddesses of India. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press,
154–72.
Doniger, Wendy. 1999. Splitting the Difference: Gender and Myth in Ancient Greece and India.
Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.
Doniger, Wendy. 2000. The Bedtrick: Tales of Sex and Masquerade. Chicago, IL: University of
Chicago Press.
Doniger, Wendy (ed.) 2004. Hindu Myths: A Sourcebook Translated from the Sanskrit. London:
Penguin.
Doniger, Wendy. 2014a. On Hinduism. New York: Oxford University Press.
Doniger, Wendy. 2014b. “Saranyu/Samjna: The Sun and The Shadow”. In On Hinduism. New York:
Oxford University Press, 269–87.
Einoo, Shingo. 1999. “The Autumn Goddess Festival: Described in the Purānas”. In Masakazu
Tanaka and Musashi Tachikawa (eds), Living With Śakti: Gender, Sexuality and Religion in South
Asia. Senri Ethnological Studies 50. Osaka: National Museum of Ethnology , 33–70.
Goldman, Robert P. 1969. “Mortal Man and Immortal Woman: An Interpretation of Three Akhyana
Hymns of the Rgveda”. Journal of the Oriental Institute of Baroda 18 (4): 274–303.
Mani, Vettam. 1975. Purā
ic Encyclopaedia: A Comprehensive Dictionary with Special Reference to
the Epic and Purā
ic Literature. Delhi : Motilal Banarsidass.
Monier-Williams, Ernst Leumann, Carl Cappeller, and Īśvaracandra. 2008. “Monier Williams
Sanskrit–English Dictionary (2008 Revision)”.
Pargiter, F.E. 1904. Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a. Calcutta: Asiatic Society of Bengal.
Pingree, David. 1977. Jyoti
śāstra. Edited by Jan Gonda. Vol. VI. A History of Indian Literature,
Part 3, Fasc. 4. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz.
Pintchman, Tracy. 1994. The Rise of the Goddess in the Hindu Tradition. Albany, NY: State
University of New York Press.
Rodrigues, Hillary. 2003. Ritual Worship of the Great Goddess: The Liturgy of the Durgā Pūjā with
Interpretations. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.
Sastri, Pothukuchi Subrahmanya. 1995. Brihat Jataka. New Delhi: Ranjan Publ.
Sharma, Girish Chand. 1994. Maharishi Parasara’s Brihat Parasara Hora Sastra. New Delhi: Sagar
Publications.
4 Mapping Mārkaeya
Synchronic surveillance of The Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Purā
a
4.1 Exposition import
The manner in which the MkP is ultimately framed the tripartite context
of the questioner, the respondent, and the content of the questions
themselves, herein referred to as exposition import will necessarily grant
insight into its current assembly of narrative constituent. If we look to the
initial frame of the MkP, we note an expositional exchange wherein the
interlocutor Jaimini asks the expositor Sage Mārkaṇḍeya four questions,
questions which were apparently left unsatisfactorily addressed in the MBh.
These questions constitute a four-part expositional prompt, which launches
the work as a whole. In the words of R.C. Hazra, the MkP:
commences with Jaimini, a pupil of Vyāsa, who approaches the sage
Mārkaṇḍeya for the solution of some doubts raised in his mind by the
study of the Mahābhārata. For want of sufficient time Mārkaṇḍeya
does not answer the questions put to him by Jaimini but refers the latter
to the four wise birds living on the Vindhyas. The beginning of the
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya-purā
a agrees with its description given in the Matsya,
which says: “That Purāa in which, in reply to the Muni, the duties and
non-duties have been explained by the holy sages in connection with
the birds and which, again, is narrated fully by Mārkaṇḍeya is called
the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya (-purāa), containing 9,000 verses.”
(Hazra 1975, 8)
The ‘fanciful’ frame inaugurating the MkP is surely not without intent.
While one might choose to regard an individual textual entity as
‘interpolated’, one cannot exactly say the same for an initial frame. Into
what can the inauguration of a work be said to be interpolated? Put
otherwise: while one may argue that the DM was assembled into the MkP
so as to be supported by the text, a frame was added to the MkP to support
the MkP. But what does this initial frame hope to accomplish? Following
exposition import, let us look to questionee, questioner and questions asked
in the initial frame of the MkP.
4.1.1 Jaimini’s questioning
The role of the questioner is crucial to Purāic literature insofar as it is the
nature of questions he poses, and the answers given to those questions,
which succeed in advancing the narrative. Even the lengthiest of narrative
passages is framed as dialogue between the questioner and sagacious
respondent. We may therefore take direction from the question being asked,
the nature of the questioner, and the nature of the respondent: these three
elements will necessarily colour the unfolding narrative. For example, all of
the various discourses in the BhG are posed as Kṛṣṇa’s responses to
Arjuna’s questions. This conversation serves to contextualize what is being
expounded. Furthermore, the exchanges between Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna are
being ultimately relayed to the blind king Dhtarāṣṭhra by his
advisor/charioteer Sajaya. Note that Sajaya had been granted the gift of
dūradarśana (remote viewing) whereby he was able to perceive events
great distances away through yogic vision. The fact that the entirely of the
BhG is relayed to one who lacks the ability to view physical reality, relayed
by one who is himself physically absent from the scene he describes
(relaying events as they present themselves to him through his mind’s eye
through the grace of a supernatural gift of remote vision) serves to launch
the discourse of the BhG in a transcendental, ideological space, whereby
one may readily receive its inaugural locative dharma-ketre, ‘the field of
dharma’, as the metaphysical, rather than physical, plane which it already
implies in the absence of this ethereal framing. While, of course, Kṛṣṇa
succeeds in doling out practical advice to an actual individual in a real-life
scenario, the fact that he alights to the intangible realm of ethics,
metaphysics revealing his transcendental cosmic form in doing so is
foreshadowed and supported by the very non-physical, ethereal, ideational
manner in which the verses themselves are framed: none of the Gītā, as
relayed to the hearer, occurs within the field of direct vision. In like manner,
the manner in which the MkP is ultimately framed the context of the
questioner, the respondent, and the content of the questions themselves
will necessarily grant insight into the framing process in which they
partake, that is, the hermeneutic sway they hold upon that which they
frame. Let us turn first to the interlocutor in question: who is this Jaimini?
The name Jaimini traditionally bears associations with the Sāma Veda,
Pūrva Mīmā
Sūtras, and an astrological treatise named Jaimini Sūtras.
What is noteworthy is that Jaimini is an expositor in these works not an
interlocutor. In casting Jaimini as an interlocutor, the initial frame of the
MkP serves to communicate expositional mastery on behalf of
Mārkaṇḍeya, whose knowledge lies even beyond that of the intellectually
accomplished, such as Jaimini. Admittedly, there is no way to ascertain
whether we are to understand the sūtric expositor, Jaimini, to be the same as
the one questioning Mārkaṇḍeya. However, Jaimini is a reputed expositor
even in itihāsa literature. Mani Vettam informs us that Jaimini was “a
hermit of the highest degree of leaning” (Mani 1975, 337), being among the
five foremost pupils of the great Vyāsa. He succeeds in becoming a great
teacher in his own right since it is his insightful exposition to his
interlocutor Hirayanābha’s questions in the Naimiā forest which
comprises the Brahmā
ṇḍ
a Purā
a (Mani 1975, 337). Little else is known
of this figure other than his three minor appearances in the MBh: first, at
Janamejaya’s sacrifice to exterminate the serpents in the Ādi Parvan (MBh
I.53.6); second, as a member of Yudhiṣṭhira’s council in the Sabhā Parvan
(MBh II.4.2); and third, as he visits Bhīma on his bed of arrows in the
Śānti Pārvan (MBh XII.46.7) (Mani 1975, 337–8). Most relevant to our
discussion is the reference to him in the Ādiparvan of the MBh wherein we
are told that Vyāsa taught the Vedas and the MBh to Jaimini and four others
(Sumantu, Paila, Śuka, Vaiśampāyana) who all “in their separate ways made
public the Collections of The Bhārata(MBh I.57.76) (van Buitenen 1973,
I: 134). What little we do know of him that he is a learned student of
Vyāsa and mythic author of the Brāhmā
ṇḍ
a Purā
a in his own right
suffices to exalt the teachings of Mārkaṇḍeya (indicative of the MkP as a
whole) to a status more lofty than even the learning of the accomplished
Jaimini. Now that we have registered the import of the MkP’s interlocutor,
let us turn to its expositor.
4.1.2 Master Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Who is this Mārkaṇḍeya whom the knowledgeable Jaimini opts to question
and what, by virtue of his unique career, might he be said to represent? The
fact that Jaimini is a student of Vyāsa, the master assembler of the MhB, is
certainly not inconsequential to what the MkP’s frame narrative wishes to
communicate about the status of the MkP. In the words of Pargiter, this
dynamic “raises a presumption that there was an intention to make
Mārkaṇḍeya equal with, if not superior to, Vyāsa” (Pargiter 1904, xxi). In
turning our attention to the mythic progenitor of our Purāa, we note that
various discourses of Sage Mārkaṇḍeya are to be found in MBh III.205–
215, wherein he discusses
the virtues of women (205 f.), upon forbearance towards living beings
(Ahisā, 206–208), upon the power of destiny, renunciation of the
world and liberation, upon doctrines of the khya philosophy (210)
and of the Vedānta (211), upon the duties towards parents (214 ff.) and
others.
(Winternitz 1972, 425)
From his introduction in the MBh, one gets the sense of the grandeur of
Mārkaṇḍeya’s presence. His massive exposition occurs while the
ṇḍavas are in exile, visited by Kṛṣṇa and Satyabhāmā, “the beloved
chief queen of Kṛṣṇa” (MBh 3.180.1) (van Buitenen 1975, II: 571). While
they were speaking among themselves, the great sage Mārkaṇḍeya appears
before them. The ṇḍava entourage welcome and honour him, extending
the hospitality appropriate to so exalted a guest. They ask him to regale
them with sacred tales of times long past, of sages, and women, and kings.
Signalling the significance of Mārkaṇḍeya’s transmission, Nārada shows
up and prompts the sage to tell the Pāṇḍavas what he wishes to tell them, to
which Mārkaṇḍeya invites them to make themselves comfortable given the
scope of what he’s about to tell. The ṇḍavas settled in and gave their
attention to the great sage whose lustre matched the midday Sun (MBh
3.180.38–50). Mārkaṇḍeya’s exalted status is clearly communicated by this
exchange, even before he opens his mouth. The ensuing exposition will
moreover convey the degree and calibre of his learning. Yet, what is
perhaps most striking about Mārkaṇḍeya is perhaps his receipt of a very
special boon even among Purāic boons granted by Lord Śiva. To
appreciate this boon, we must turn to Mārkaṇḍeya’s own origin: to the
biographical framing of he who frames our text.
Mārkaṇḍeya’s parents were childless and so his father, Mkaṇḍu,
undertook great penance to Lord Śiva for the sake of progeny. Pleased by
his penance, the great god appeared before Mkaṇḍu and presented him
with the following choice: “Do you desire to have a virtuous, wise and
pious son who would live up to sixteen years or a dull-witted evil-natured
son who would live long?” (Mani 1975, 488). Valuing virtue, Mkaṇḍu
opted for the former short-lived variety of offspring. And so he was gifted
with a highly gifted son who, in accordance to the parameters of the boon,
was destined to perish at the age of sixteen. Despite their joy at the receipt
of such a son, as Mārkaṇḍeya’s sixteenth year approached, his parents were
so grief-stricken by the pending termination of the life of their wondrous
son that they eventually broke beneath the weight of their turmoil and
conveyed to Mārkaṇḍeya the dark secret burdening them, that is, of
Mārkaṇḍeya’s pending demise. The young Mārkaṇḍeya resolved to
perform severe austerities to Lord Śiva before a śiva li
ga
. He was so
steadfast and devout in his worship that at the hour appointed for his death,
the messengers of Yama (the lord of the departed) were unable to seize him
due to the heat generated by Mārkaṇḍeya’s formidable tapas. Angered,
Yama came personally to retrieve the young Mārkaṇḍeya and cast his
noose in an attempt to capture the teenaged tapasvin. But by the pressures
of destiny, Yama’s noose missed Mārkaṇḍeya and accidentally encircled
the ligam instead. Outraged by the insult, the great destroyer Śiva himself
appeared in his wrathful glory and annihilated Yama (who of course is
eventually restored to life in the interest of cosmic order). Lord Śiva, having
destroyed death-personified, then blesses Mārkaṇḍeya with everlasting life,
forever abiding in his sixteen-year-old form (Mani 1975, 488). Hence Sage
Mārkaṇḍeya, in the words of Winternitz, “though is many thousand years
old, is eternally young” (Winternitz 1972, 397).
It is because of this boon that Mārkaṇḍeya, the Mahābhārata inform us,
is the only being able to survive the end of an age and thus the only being to
be graced with a direct vision of cosmic dissolution (pralaya) (Mani 1975,
489). This insight from the Mahābhārata into the career of the great sage
responds to the query of how Mārkaṇḍeya could possibly know the
beginnings of time (beyond of course the trans-temporal omniscience
customarily accompanying sagehood, which is especially useful in relaying
Purāic lore). Mārkaṇḍeya alone, among sages, indeed among all living
beings, has lived to witness the dissolution of the universe. Once can look
to Yudhiṣṭhira’s questioning of Mārkaṇḍeya to get a sense of the
significance of Mārkaṇḍeya’s boon.
The dharma king reverently questions the illustrious Mārkaṇḍeya on the
basis that he has witnessed the dissolution of many thousands of ages, and
hence none but the creator, Grandfather Brahmā, has lived as long as he.
Yudhiṣṭhira notes that when nothing remains of the elements, of sun, fire,
wind, moon, even heaven and earth, as they are all dissolved into the
primordial ocean; when all classes of beings gods, demons, serpents are
brought to dust, Mārkaṇḍeya alone remains, beyond the grip of death, old
age or sickness. Since he witnesses not only the dissolution of the age, but
also the creation of the subsequent age, watching all things come into being,
he is uniquely poised as one having experienced all this, as one to whom
nothing in creation is unknown (MBh 3.186.1–15). Mārkaṇḍeya is
personally privy to knowledge of the primordial beginnings of the universe
itself. It is perhaps for this very reason that he is the mouthpiece of two
myths of primordial beginnings found in the MkP, each of which is crucial
to the establishment of the primacy of two deities the Goddess and the
Sun lauded as supreme within their respective glorification. In the case of
each laudation, Mārkaṇḍeya might function as a personal witness to the
goings on at the dawn of time.
In light of our glimpse at the illustriousness of Sage Mārkaṇḍeya, let us
turn to what Jaimini asks him; for as I argue, the Purāic interplay of who
is speaking and what is spoken is not without ideological import.1 The four
questions asked are so central to the self-identity of the work that in its
concluding chapter, it is defined as the Purāa containing the four
questions, in the same breadth that the Purāic genre itself is defined:
“Both creation and secondary creation, genealogy and the manvantaras and
the exploits in the genealogies constitute a Purāa with the five
characteristics. This Purāa which contains the four questions is indeed of
the highest quality” (MkP 137.13–14) (Pargiter 1904, 685). Jaimini’s four
questions are as follows:
Why was Janardana Vasudeva, who is the cause of the creation
preservation and destruction of the world, although devoid of qualities,
endued with humanity? And why was Drupada’s daughter Krishna the
common wife of the five sons of Pandu? For, on this point we feel
great perplexity. Why did the mighty Baladeva Halayudha expiate his
brahmanicide by engaging in a pilgrimage? And how was it that the
unmarried heroic high-souled sons of Draupadi, whose protector was
Pandu, were slain, as if they had no protector? Deign to recount all this
to me here at length; for sages like thee are ever the instructors of the
ignorant.
(MkP 1.13–18) (Pargiter 1904, 2–3)
While much can be said about each of these questions, in keeping with our
emphasis on framing, let us turn to the first of these framing questions
which serves to frame not only the four questions, but by extension, the
entire Purāa.
The very first of Jaimini’s questions is as follows: “Why was [Viṣṇu] …
although devoid of qualities, endued with humanity?” (MkP 1.13; see
Pargiter 1904, 2). The authors of the MkP are grappling (through their
mouthpiece, Jaimini) with a very tension inhabiting the heart of Hinduism:
the tension between world-transcendence and world-engagement, that is,
between (cosmically) distal and (mundanely) proximal aims of life, as
epitomized between the enterprise of the ascetic and that of the king.
Indeed, why would (and how could) a supremely distal principle manifest
in a mundanely proximal manner, in the garb of human flesh? The four
birds which proxy for the sagacious Mārkaṇḍeya in attending to Jaimini’s
noble qualms explain that the aspect of Viṣṇu, which incarnates
is assiduously intent on the preservation of creatures, always maintains
righteousness on the earth. It destroys the haughty Asuras, the
exterminators of righteousness; it protects the gods, and holy men, who
are devoted to the preservation of righteousness. Whensoever, O
Jaimini, the wane of righteousness occurs and the rise of iniquity, then
it creates itself. Thus that form, which is characterized by goodness,
becomes incarnate [and] is occupied in the work of preservation.
(MkP 4.51–58) (Pargiter 1904, 21)
While one may wonder why such a seemingly “non-sectarian” work would
commence with a question invoking Viṣṇu’s earthly incarnation, this qualm
is readily assuaged when one considers that Viṣṇu’s function here is more
symbolic than dogmatic. Viṣṇu is invoked not necessarily in order to
demonstrate his supremacy among personalities of godhead but rather for
the sake of the cosmic function which he (and his incarnation) represents:
the preservation of the cosmos and of this world in particular. Similarly, this
“non-sectarian” Purāa begins with a benediction to Viṣṇu, one which
specifically invokes his divine protection.2 Furthermore, that Mārkaṇḍeya
is forever preserved across cosmic cycles of destruction renders him a
powerful emblem of preservation, a theme central not only to the DM but to
the very question asked of him at the outset of the MkP. As a brief aside, the
Padmapurāa (Uttarakhanda 263.81–84) details the threefold classification
of the eighteen mahāpurāas as each corresponding the three guas
sattva, rajas and tamas wherein the MkP is accorded the quality of rajas.
According to this typology, the sāttvika Purāas are associated with Viṣṇu
and lead to liberation (mukti), the rājasa ones are associated with Brahmā
and lead to heaven (svarga), while the tāmasa ones lead one to hell (Rocher
1986, 20). The Vaiṣṇava bent in this statement is marked and I do not
invoke this classification to lend it any particular authority or relevance to
the nature of the Purāas as a whole, but merely as a point of contrasting
the three aims given: heaven, hell and liberation. It is telling that the MkP is
associated with the pursuit of heaven (enjoyment) rather than liberation.
Given that all of these three spheres are construed as others to the earthly
plane, what is most intriguing about the fabric of the MkP itself is it
repeatedly validates life on earth, arguably even above and beyond the
haven of liberation. It is the earth realm which is emphasized both by the
career of Mārkaṇḍeya and by the career of the Goddess (especially as
manifest in Suratha’s boon), a realm requiring governance. Mārkaṇḍeya
craves neither liberation nor heaven but is content to enjoy everlasting life
on earth, as the only known being to survive the cosmic deluge at the end of
the age. Mārkaṇḍeya’s answer to Jaimini’s inaugural question therefore
poses as a crucial frame of context for not only the MkP as a whole but by
extension, also as the central reason why the Devī Māhātmya and Sūrya
Māhātmya find homes therein.
4.2 Making sense of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
In light of this fivefold textual sediment outlined above, one may not
readily look upon the MkP as a cohesive whole. However, the absence of
uniformity need not be taken as tantamount to the absence of a whole:
elements sometimes cohere in ways which evade initial inspection. In the
words of J.Z. Smith, “map is not territory” (1978). While diachronic study
may well reveal insights into the ‘territory’ of the MkP, synchronic study
takes its cue from the MkP ‘map’ provided to us by the final redactors of
this work. The image that comes to mind here is that of an ancient city to
which growth has accrued for multiple centuries, for example, Athens. For
certain purposes, with certain historical questions in mind, it might serve us
to demarcate the Acropolis as part of the ‘original’ Athens. However it
would generally be more natural and regarding most inquiry, most fruitful
to understand the Acropolis, though ancient, as no more or less ‘truly’
Athens as the one which millions of people currently call home. In light of
this analogy, Sections III and V, those seemingly narrated by Mārkaṇḍeya
proper, might be understood as the “old city” of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a,
while Sections I and II might be viewed as the “new city”.
Such historical distinctions have little bearing on the more recent
innovations which unite both the old and new city, for example, a single
municipal water system or equally subject to public transit routes which
pass between the two unfettered. In like fashion, there are various motifs
which permeate across the apt but ultimately artificial fivefold divisions
comprising the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a which scholars such as Banerjea and
Pargiter have tended to emphasize, precisely because these innovations are
relatively recent. This research is in no way an exhaustive study of the
themes which allow the MkP to cohere as a whole but rather to the themes
common to the DM and to various other strata of the text to the extent to
which grave doubt is shed on the notion that the authors of the DM
haphazardly interpolated the DM into the MkP. Rather this research
suggests that these Śākta ‘interpolators’ (along with their Saura
counterparts) were well acquainted with the materials already compiled in
the MkP and that those materials inspired the placement, if not the very
compilation and composition, of the episodes of the DM. That we view the
DM as an interpolation is not commensurate with how either the authors of
these texts, or the culture which preserves them, relates to this corpus.
Ironically, it is not so much that the DM as an interpolation intrudes upon
the fabric of the MkP but rather that the rhetoric of ‘interpolation’ intrudes
upon the nature and functions of the Purāas.
Rather than rebuke as contrived the compositional process whereby
subsequent sections were “interjected” into “the MkP”, this discussion
embraces all narrative tributaries as proper to the MkP assemblage as a
whole. This discussion proceeds on the basis that the MkP’s present
articulation is indicative of the most recent renovations undertaken to its
structure, resulting from an organic process geared towards preserving the
religious relevance of the Purāa. Mārkaṇḍeya makes a direct appearance
in this Purāa for only the first three cantos. For the duration of the
remaining 134 cantos, the Birds3 usurp his role as the mouthpiece of his
Purāa4 and as noted above, they do so at his behest. While a learned
expounder (in whose mouth might be placed the teachings of various other
figures) typically remains consistent throughout a Purāic assemblage, in
the case of the MkP, it is only the questioner, Jaimini, who remains
constant; the expository mouthpiece shifts from Mārkaṇḍeya to four birds
and furthermore, they end up expositing more than merely Mārkaṇḍeya’s
words. We shall return to their role below. Since our interlocutor Jaimini
(answers to whose crucial questions serve to advance the work) remains
consistent throughout, let us plot a broad exposition guide for the MkP in
order to highlight the queries to which it responds (see Table 4.1).
From the broad Exposition Guide above, we note that once the inaugural
questions of Section I (originally asked in Canto 1, then recapitulated in
Canto 4, since Mārkaṇḍeya defers them to the learned Birds) are
satisfactorily answered in Canto 9, Jaimini launches a second barrage of
questions in Canto 10, initiating Section II. And once these are answered in
Canto 44, he launches his third and final barrage of questions, comprising
Section III, which occupy the remainder of the Purāa. The final canto,
constituting the Omega Section, is very much an adjunct to Section I.
However, in its function as terminal frame, it explicitly harkens to all three
expositional sections serving to bring closure to all of them. Thus in its final
form (presumably of importance to the religious communities which have
assembled it thus), the MkP is readily divisible into three expositional
sections, pertaining to Jaimini’s three primary expositional prompts.
It is noteworthy that the DM find itself in the middle of Section II,
presented as equally a part of addressing Jaimini’s third barrage of
questioning. Put otherwise, that Jaimini does not interject between Cantos
45 and 137 verifies that the text does not present Cantos 81–93 as an
interruption to its flow, despite diachronic scholarly emphasis to the
contrary. Had the authors felt the need for interjection on the basis of
thematic disjunction (as with the outset of the Fathers discourse in Canto
10, for example), they certainly would have had Jaimini fulfil his role as the
Purāas’ trusty interlocutor. We might infer from the absence of such
interjection that the occurrence of the DM is, in the eyes of the assemblers
of the MkP, not sufficiently disjointed to warrant a separate expositional
prompt on the level of discourse between Jaimini and the Birds. Similarly at
the terminal frame of the MkP (the Omega Section), in their closing speech,
the Birds indicate that they have addressed all three avenues of Jaimini’s
inquiry – saying:
And the very four questions indeed, which thou didst put to us at the
very first the conversation between the father and son, and the
creation by the Self-existent One, and the administrations of the
Manus, and the exploits of the kings, muni, this we have declared to
thee.
(MkP 137.5–6) (Pargiter 1904, 684)
Table 4.1 Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a Exposition Guide
There is no separate mention of the glories of the goddess since those
glories comprise the third of these avenues of inquiry. One could of course
argue that this verse was assembled prior to the DM’s “insertion” into the
MkP. However, by that same diachronic token, if this tripartite summation
accounts for the “insertion” of the Sumati-Jaa section, then why would the
assemblers of the text not alter it or compose another to follow it, to account
for the additional assertion of the DM cantos? Thematically, as expressed
through the answering of Jaimini’s questions, the text is construed in three
(and not five) constituent sections. It is from this perspective that we might
begin to understand the conspicuous absence of quibbles within the
tradition regarding the “interpolation” of the DM into the MkP. It is
understood as an aspect of the MV section, comprising the third
expositional segment of the MkP.
On the surface level of the MkP, Mārkaṇḍeya makes only a scant three-
canto direct appearance during its initiation in Section I. Why then is the
work named after him? Arguably, his presence at the genesis of the
assemblage is necessary for the work to be ascribed to him. It is during his
inaugural presence that he delegates Jaimini’s questions to the Birds,
ironically demonstrating his authority in authorizing the Birds to answer on
his behalf. There is another very good reason that the Purāa at hand should
be named after Mārkaṇḍeya. He is the immediate expositor of 94 of its
cantos: Cantos 1–3 where he speaks directly to Jaimini, and Cantos 45–136,
where the Birds serve as a mouthpiece, relaying what Mārkaṇḍeya once
taught Krauṣṭuki. While the Birds operate as mouthpieces of the entire
Purāa, save for the first three cantos before Mārkaṇḍeya passes the
microphone over (in much the same way that, for example, Sañjaya does
for Kṛṣṇa in the BhG), only seven cantos originate from them: Cantos 4–9
(answering Jaimini’s inaugural questions) and the closing canto, 137. Over
the course of the remaining cantos, they voice the teachings of other
expounders: Sumati-Jaa’s Father (Cantos 10–44) and, as mentioned, of
Mārkaṇḍeya himself (46–136) which constitutes the bulk of the work. The
Birds narrative ventriloquism notwithstanding, the MkP presents us with
three primary expositors of knowledge: Sumati-Jaa’s Father, the Birds and
Sage Mārkaṇḍeya himself (see Table 4.2).
While the exploits of the Goddess in the DM are directly exposited by
Medhas, this exposition is a component of Mārkaṇḍeya’s exposition to
Krauṣṭuki comprising Section III of the MkP. The same understanding
applies in Section II wherein Queen Madālasā’s educates her son Alarka
(MkP 27–36), yet these teachings are placed in the mouth of the Father as
part of his exposition to his son Sumati-Jaa. Queen Madālasā’s exposition
is proper to Section II of the MkP, as Medhas’ is proper to its Section III.
Table 4.2 Expositors of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Cantos Expositor Interlocutor Mouthpiece
1–3 Mārkaṇḍeya Jaimini NA
4–9 Birds Jaimini NA
10–44 Father Sumati-JaaBirds
45–136 Mārkaṇḍeya Krauṣṭuki Birds
137 Birds Jaimini NA
In addition to his role as expositor proper during Cantos 45–136 of the
MkP, Mārkaṇḍeya occupies the first three cantos of the Purāa over which
he accomplishes more than merely deferring to the Birds; he presents their
backstory, offering valuable exposition import towards the significance of
the Purāa’s primary mouthpiece. In response to Jaimini’s astonishment at
how such great learning might be found in the brains of birds and
furthermore, that birds may possess the ability to articulate such learning
(MkP 1.24–25) Mārkaṇḍeya explains that the Birds are actually reborn
brāhmaa brothers. In their previous life, the four Birds were the four
devoted sons of the great sage, Sukṛṣa, by whom they were cursed to be
reborn as birds by a horrible twist of fate. In order to test the steadfastness
of sage Sukṛṣa, Indra dons the guise of a tattered and greatly suffering bird
(MkP 3.19–20) (henceforth avian-Indra) and begs Sukṛṣa for aid. Sukṛṣa
promises aid, stating: “I will give thee the food thou desirest for the support
of thy life. What food shall I prepare for thy use?” To this avian-Indra
boldly replies “My chiefest delight is in human flesh” (MkP 3.26–27)
(Pargiter 1904, 13). While the sage severely chastises Indra for his brazen
request, he nevertheless acquiesces to delivering the promise he made to
offer the bird the meal of his desiring. Sukṛṣa’s entire speech highlights the
sway of niv
ttic religiosity as follows:
Thy childhood is past; thy youth, too, gone; thou art assuredly in the
decline of life, O egg-born. Why art thou most malign-hearted even in
old age, thou in whom of all mankind every desire has ceased? What
has thy last stage of life to do with human flesh? Assuredly no one is
created foremost among evil-beings! Or what need hast thou to address
me, being what I am? One should always give when one has promised
– such is our professed opinion.
(MkP 3.28–31) (Pargiter 1904, 13)
What Sukṛṣa does next is most astonishing: he calls forth his four sons
(the same destined to incarnate as the Birds of our Purāa) and having
praised their virtues, says to them: “If a father is deemed by you a guru
worthy of reverence and most exalted, perform ye then my promise with
cheerful mind” (MkP 3.32–36). To this, the pious and dutiful brāhmaa
sons eagerly indicate that their father Sukṛṣa may consider already done
what it is he wishes to request. This time it is the sons who, like their father
a moment before, are made to unwittingly deliver a dire promise. The sage
then lets them in on the horror incurred by their loyalty saying “of me has
this bird sought protection oppressed with hunger and thirst; wherefore let
him be straightway satisfied with your flesh, and let his thirst be quickly
assuaged with your blood” (MkP 3.37) (Pargiter 1904, 13). The sons,
terrified, default on their promise, which aroused the wrath of Sukṛṣa.
Angered that they revoked their word, the sage curses them to be reborn as
birds. He then resolves to perform his own funeral rites and offer his own
body as sustenance for the wretched birds. Impressed at his resolve, Indra
finally reveals the ruse, and pleased by the would-be sacrifice of the sage,
offers him a blessing then departs. While the sons then propitiate their
father and appeal to him to revoke his dreadful curse, as we have learned
from innumerable Sanskrit tales, once a curse is issued, it cannot be undone.
To do so would make a liar of the being of steadfast truth issuing the curse;
hence, Sukṛṣa replies, “What I have uttered, will never become false; my
voice has not spoken untruth hitherto, O sons!” (MkP 3.75) (Pargiter 1904,
16). But as we have also learned from countless South Asian tales, curses
may be modified. So Sukṛṣa, remorseful that the pressures of destiny
compelled him to “thoughtlessly do a deed that ought not to be done”
(MkP 3.75) (Pargiter 1904, 16), blesses his sons to attain the highest
knowledge despite undergoing avian incarnation (MkP 3.75–78). Hence
(concludes Mārkaṇḍeya to Jaimini in Section I of the MkP) supremely
intelligent birds, minds subdued, reside within a cave in the Vindhyas (MkP
3.85) (Pargiter 1904, 17), conveniently poised to address Jaimini’s queries.
Despite the richness of this episode, I touch here upon only one of its
features salient to the discussion at hand; it shall be revisited in greater
detail below. The Sukṛṣa episode is deeply evocative of blood sacrifice in
the context of ritual. The Birds begin their tale by stating that they were
reverent to their father Sukṛṣa in their last life and busied themselves
producing fuel for his sacrifices, along with “whatever was needed for
sustenance” (MkP 3.18). In calling upon the sons at that gruesome hour, the
sage was calling upon them to produce fuel for the sacrifice at hand:
oblations of human flesh and blood into avian-Indra’s digestive fire. In
addition to the pervasive equation with food and ritual sacrifice, the two are
thoroughly blended in this episode insofar as Sukṛṣa in the same breath
refers both to his own funerary sacrifice, and avian-Indra’s food sacrifice as
follows: “when I have performed for myself the final sacrifice, and my
obsequies, according to the śāstras, do thou unhesitatingly eat me here; this
my body I here grant thee for food” (MkP 3.46) (Pargiter 1904, 14). On the
surface, Mārkaṇḍeya’s initial discourse serves to explain the existence of
the Birds and to validate the calibre of their learning; however, on a deeper
level it evokes blood sacrifice. Keeping in line with our methodological
process, let us now turn to Mārkaṇḍeya’s terminal discourse where we
shall discover a most astonishing corollary.
4.2.1 Insights from the astonishing story of Dama
The episode of King Dama (MkP 133–136) is the final episode to be found
in the genealogy of solar kings section of the MkP (101–136); it thus serves
as the terminal frame of the genealogy section and as the terminal frame of
Section III (45–136) as a whole, comprising the final episode to be
conveyed by Mārkaṇḍeya himself. While the Purāa in fact proceeds to
detail the exploits of one more king in this dynastic lineage namely, of
Dama’s son Rājyavardhana5 we do not find Rājyavardhana’s exploits
directly following those of Dama, as per the patrilineal pattern typifying the
section. Rather the assemblers of the MkP opt to assemble the
Rājyavardhana episode immediately before the genealogy section proper.
And this editorial decision is not without purpose. This maneuver
accomplishes three tasks, all of which are significant to narrative
enframement: first, it enables Rājyavardhana’s exploits (in which the Sun
plays a crucial role) to serve as the terminal frame of narrative tributary
lauding the Sun; second, it allows that narrative within that tributary (which
itself serves as the initial frame of the MkP’s genealogy of kings section) to
move from the heavenly sphere to the sphere of earthly kings in order to
fittingly inaugurate the lineage of earthly kings comprising the section; and
third and most crucially for our purposes, it enables the exploits of Dama to
function as the terminal frame of Mārkaṇḍeya’s discourse to Krauṣṭuki.
But why would the assemblers of the MkP opt to end with the exploits of
Dama? In registering elements unique to the career of Dama, we ascertain
the significance of its role as the Purāa’s episodic finale, particularly with
respect to the manner in which the themes of that finale echo the themes
running through the assemblage at large.
The climax of Dama’s exploits occur within its final canto which details
Dama extracting revenge upon his nemesis Vapumān, who murdered
Dama’s defenseless king-turned-ascetic father, Nariyanta. Stemming from
the verbal root dam to tame, subdue, or control, conquer, overpower
(Monier-Williams et al. 2008) the Sanskrit masculine noun dama carries
with it various interrelated connotations, all of which revolve around the
notion of control: when internally directed, this word connotes “self-
command, self-restraint, self-control” (Monier-Williams et al. 2008) and
when externally directed, dama connotes dominion through taming,
subduing, or punishing another.6 It is clear from the events of this episode
that King Dama was named after the latter. The unabashed bloodlust he
exhibits during the slaughter of Vapumān well surpasses all bounds of
self-restraint. For in the climax of the episode, both valiant warriors, Dama
and Vapumān, are locked in sword-to-sword mortal combat until:
Dama, reflecting for a moment on the king his father who had been
killed in the forest, seized Vapush-mat by the hair and attacked him and
felled him to the earth; and with his foot on his neck, raising his arm he
exclaimed, –“Let all the gods, men, Serpents and birds see the heart
also of Vapumat, who is of katriya caste, split open!”
(MkP 136.31–33) (Pargiter 1904, 683)
Upon splitting open the heart of Vapumān, Dama is so intoxicated with
wrath that he was desirous of drinking (pātukāma
) Vapumān’s blood but
was restrained by the gods from doing so (MkP 136.34). What is even more
astonishing from the perspective of Hindu ritual is what he does next: he
uses Vapumān’s blood to offer libations to his deceased father then heads
home to perform his rituals crafting the ritual cakes (pi
ṇḍ
as) out of
Vapumān’s flesh (MkP 136.35).
The episode adds to this explosive climax a single line, one which has
been met with tremendous intrigue by Eden Pargiter. The line reads: “he
feasted the brahmans who were sprung from families of Rakshasas” (MkP
136.36: brāhma
ān bhojayāmāsa rak
a
kulasamudbhavān) (Pargiter
1904, 683). Taking his cue from H.H. Wilson,7 Pargiter takes two aspects of
the verse for granted which need to be reexamined. First, he reads the final
compound of the episode (rak
a
kulasamudbhavān) as Brahmins “sprung
from families of Rākasas”, and second, as a corollary to the first notion, he
presumes that the text implies that the flesh cakes are the object of the
feasting. Regarding the first of these notions, the text simply states that
Dama fed Brahmins who sprang from the Raka clan. Raka either stands
for a proper noun (i.e. the Raka Family) or could signify
“guarding/watching”, in addition to “evil being or demon” (Monier-
Williams et al. 2008). While rak
a-kula-samudbhavān could very well
mean, “sprung from the clan of demons”, it could also very well mean
“sprung from the clan of protectors”, or, quite simply, “sprung from the
Raka clan”. What lends credence to Pargiters reading is the polluting
aspect of blood involved in Dama’s ritual in which the only sufficiently
polluted (or demonic) brāhmaas would partake. What clinches this reading
for Pargiter is his assumption (following Wilson) that the verse mounts
testimony of ancient cannibalism, a reading which fundamentally depends
upon his second presumption: that the flesh-cakes are the object of the
feasting (Pargiter 1904, xxi–xxii).
It is most likely not the case that Dama fed the pi
ṇḍ
a cakes to living
people – both from the construction of the verse and from what we know of
pit
pūjā. As insulting as it would be to offer anyone food that has been
polluted by another prior partaking of it, it would be atrocious to offer food
that was sullied by the dead, a state of supreme pollution to living beings.
Food offerings in pit
pūjā are generally discarded into running water or fed
to animals. However, it is customary to feed brāhmaas after rituals, even
ancestor rites, so one might be inclined to take the verse at face value with
the piṇḍa cakes not being the object of the feeding. If the consumption of
human blood or flesh were to be condoned, it is doubtful that the text would
have the gods restrain Dama from drinking Vapumān’s blood. Given that
cannibalism would be so repugnant and scandalous an affair, it is doubtful
that the text would remain so scant and so ambiguous had it intended to
convey this harrowing theme; one imagines it would either explicitly
embellish it for the sake of making a point or telling a good story, or it
would altogether dispense with any such implications. For example, given
its gory affront to brahmanical ritual even in the absence of the
consumption of human flesh (whether by brāhmaas or by some
brāhmaa-rākasas hybrid), the entire encounter between Dama and
Vapumān has been excised from the Bengal recension of the MkP which
“ends abruptly in canto 136, leaving Dama acquiescing tamely in the flight
of his fathers murderer Vapumat” (Pargiter 1904, vii). However, Pargiter
argues convincingly that, despite Banerjea’s favouring of the Bengal
edition, the versions to be found in the Bombay and Poona editions (whose
endings conform with the above discussion) appear more genuine and he
argues this on two fronts: on the bases of the intentions of would-be forgers
(Pargiter 1904, vii), and – more intriguing for our study – on the basis of the
world within the text, reasoning that “the pusillanimity which that ending
ascribes to Dama jars with the whole tone of his threat in Canto 135 which
both versions account genuine” (Pargiter 1904, vii). Pargiters reliance here
upon the synchronic coherence of the text itself is refreshing and I am left
wondering what other profound insights he would have made had he
directed more of his scholarly energy in this direction.
Given Pargiters acknowledgement that it is only “implied [that Dama]
gave certain degraded brahmans a cannibal feast” (Pargiter 1904, vii), and
given his astonishment at this “most extraordinary passage” (Pargiter 1904,
xxi–xxii), one which was “unparalleled in Sanskrit, and it is almost
incredible that there should have been brahmans of any kind whatever who
would have participated in it” (Pargiter 1904, xxii), it is a wonder that he
doesn’t read the verse more at face value: that Dama fed the Brahmins after
performing the piṇḍa offerings not with the piṇḍa offerings. Certainly
Wilson’s reading would have held sway upon his interpretation but there
would have been another crucial element at play in his psyche surrounding
this textual juncture which seduced him into such intrigue: his quest for
historical insight,8 particularly within this most ancient of the strata of the
MkP. As Pargiter declares in his introductory essay: “there can be no doubt
that only the thirds and fifth of these parts constituted the Purāa in its
original shape as Mārkaṇḍeya’s Purāa” (Pargiter 1904, iv). It is for this
very diachronic bias that he is bent on viewing the blood-soaked elements
of the Dama episode as potential historical evidence evidence that
“savagery was not absent from the earliest memories of the Aryans in
India” (Pargiter 1904, vii). He romanticizes this episode to offer ancient
insight into Aryan pre-history, declaring that it “would seem to imply that it
is of real antiquity, and that the account of the dynasty in which he
occurred, and which is the only dynasty described, must be a purāa in the
full meaning of the term” (Pargiter 1904, xxi–xxii). While the gore of the
Dama episode is esteemed as of great historical value, the blood-soaked
elements of the DM are condemned as “the product of a later age which
developed and took pleasure in the sanguinary features of popular religion”
wherein “the descriptions of the battles abound with wild and repulsive
incidents and revel in gross and amazing fancies” (Pargiter 1904, vi–vii). Is
the battle between Dama and Vapumān anything less than wild, repulsive
or amazing compared to what we find in the DM? It is these very elements
which render the battles of the DM and of Dama’s vengeance captivating
literary works.
Does there truly exist such a drastic divide between the glorified gore of
Dama’s vengeance and the gore comprising the glories of the Goddess?
Whether or not the Dama episode alludes to, or is derived from, sanguinary
practices from a long lost past, we cannot know. What we can know is the
spatter pattern ornamenting the MkP: Dama’s offering of Vapumān’s blood
and flesh renders explicit what is implicit (yet palpable) in the sanguinary
sacrifice of Sage Sukṛṣa episode the besmearing of ritual sacrifice with
human flesh and blood9 – and is powerfully echoed in the final verses of the
DM where we learn that the king and merchant, during their steadfast
worship of the Goddess, make “offerings sprinkled from the blood of their
own limbs” (DM 13.9) (Coburn 1991, 83).10 Furthermore, these sanguinary
segments besmear neither the expositions of the Father nor those of the
Birds, but flow forth from the mouth of Mārkaṇḍeya alone: the sacrifice of
blood deliberately stains his initial and terminal exposition alike. Despite
the diachronic divisions known to the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a, its present
synchronic state exalts a sage whose discourses advocate the preservation
of this realm and its creatures, even when the affairs of that preservation
incur the sacrifice of blood (be it physically or ritually). For as Mārkaṇḍeya
tells us, it is the sacrifice of blood which earns Sukṛṣa the blessings of
Indra,11 the sacrifice of blood which appeases Dama’s murdered father, and
the sacrifice of blood which earns Suratha and Samādhi a vision of the
Goddess. Rather than view the DM as an interpolated interruption of the
Mārkaṇḍeya’s Purāa, one might just as readily embrace it as an explicit
and most articulate embellishment of a theme which is inextricable from the
fabric of his discourse.
4.2.2 Avian exposition
Keeping in mind the who-asks-what-of-whom tripartite thematic trail
comprising exposition import, we would be remiss in not plumping for such
import a most distinctive feature of the MkP: Mārkaṇḍeya’s Purāa is
primarily voiced by four mysterious birds. This expositional initiative well
exemplifies the mechanics of textual framing featured in this study. Let us
be sure to distinguish that the work is not primarily exposited by the Birds,
for as discussed above, it is the Father, and Mārkaṇḍeya himself, who do
most of the expositional legwork insofar as relaying the bulk of the
teachings of the text. The Birds, on the other hand, for the most part serve
as a mouthpiece mouthing the words of other teachers. Note that I refer to
these birds as “mouthpiece” in the singular (verses “mouthpieces”) since
the Birds, though they are four in number, they are clearly intended to be
taken as a single collective mouthpiece. This may be readily ascertained by
the fact that they only ever speak in unison, primarily occupied with
collectively mouthing the words of single speakers (the Father and
Mārkaṇḍeya). No distinction is made between them and no individual
contribution is accorded among them during the entire Purāa, even when it
is they who are doing the expounding. They lack any disambiguating
features apart from the fact that Mārkaṇḍeya provides four names to
Jaimini upon first introducing them,12 yet, these names appear nowhere else
in the Purāa and despite knowing these names, Jaimini consistently
collectively addresses them simply as Birds (pakina) throughout.
Furthermore, I have not been able to locate itihāsa literature on birds
possessing these specific names, whether collectively or individually. So
one might be inclined to view these names as relatively inconsequential to
establishing particular, individual characters, that is, bereft of particular
expositor import. We are guided by the text to symbolically understand
them in one fell swoop, simply as “the Birds”.
That the speaker aspect of Mārkaṇḍeya’s Purāa is bifurcated cannot be
inconsequential to its thematic mechanics. Mārkaṇḍeya could have easily
remained the mouthpiece of the work and relayed the teachings of the Birds
(as the Birds do for the Father and for Mārkaṇḍeya himself). Yet, for
whatever motive, the Birds are made to assume command of the surface
level narrative, imbuing the work with their (and not only Mārkaṇḍeya’s)
expositor import. While the Birds themselves directly expound very little,
what they do expound is quite crucial. For it is the Birds, and not
Mārkaṇḍeya, who answer Jaimini’s first four questions which frame the
entire Purāa. And furthermore, this is the only direct exposition they
provide wherein they serve as expositor and not merely as mouthpiece.
While the Purāa could easily have placed Mārkaṇḍeya’s answers merely
in the mouths of the Birds (as it does for Cantos 45–136), it places these
crucial answers within the birds themselves. It is the learning of the Birds,
and not Mārkaṇḍeya himself, which appease Jaimini’s burning questions,
that is, the questions identified with Mārkaṇḍeya’s Purāa. The assemblers
of the MkP insist upon providing the assemblage with an expositional frame
wherein there is an appropriate interplay between the four-part prompt and
the expositor of that prompt: the four questions and the Birds thus enjoy a
symbiotic relationship, each crafted for the other. As Pargiter notes, “the
Birds, though said no doubt to be brahmans undergoing a transmigration,
were inferior in education and fame to Jaimini, yet they were deemed fully
capable of authoritatively answering the questions that puzzled him”
(Pargiter 1904, xxi). Why should these otherwise insignificant and
anonymous Birds take centre-stage in this manner?
In grappling with this textual quandary, Pargiter intriguingly theorizes
that “in this construction of the story, that there was an intention to exalt the
instruction given by the munis of the Vindhyas to equality with, if not
superiority over, that given in Madhya-deśa” (Pargiter 1904, xxi). It
certainly is tempting to read Pargiters suggestion into the fact that the Birds
are made to dwell specifically by the Vindhya mountains which is perhaps
the only real-world detail accorded to them. Irrespective of the veracity of
Pargiters suggestion, it is clear that the work is intent upon according the
Birds a lofty status, particularly with respect to Jaimini’s vexed questions.
Yet, the work is equally careful to not exalt the Birds at Mārkaṇḍeya’s
expense. For as Pargiter also notes:
The prefixing of the discourses delivered by the Birds to the Purāa
proper raised the Birds to the primary and chief position and tended to
derogate from Mārkaṇḍeya’s pre-eminence; but clashing was avoided
and Mārkaṇḍeya’s supremacy was preserved by two expedients; first,
he was introduced at the very beginning in order that he might
expressly declare the wisdom and authority of the Birds; and secondly,
the original Purāa was interfered with as little as possible by making
the Birds repeat it in its entirety as Mārkaṇḍeya’s teaching, conclusive
upon the subjects dealt with in it.
(Pargiter 1904, v)
The status of the Birds as the mouthpiece of the Purāa not only refrains
from trespassing upon Mārkaṇḍeya’s own primacy and authority within the
work but the boundaries between these two mouthpieces, Mārkaṇḍeya and
the Birds, appears happily blurred within the work; not only do the Birds
mouth the teachings of Mārkaṇḍeya, but it is Mārkaṇḍeya who provides
the karmic biography of the Birds and during this juncture, the words of the
Birds are placed in the mouth of Mārkaṇḍeya.13
The introduction of the Birds therefore does not appear to serve to exalt
a particular figure or creed nor does it appear to implicate any particular
ideological or political agenda. Furthermore, we are not presented, by their
presence, with literary associations which the authors might hope to invoke;
the thematic currents of other works are not made to flow into this one
since, to the best of our knowledge, these Birds make their first and final
appearance in the MkP itself. So in order to discover what they might
represent, we must take our cue from the text itself. Pargiter notices that
upon beginning the Purāa, the Birds
retire from further notice, but reappear with Jaimini in the final canto to
conclude their discourse and give consistency to the combined
instruction. This was a termination rendered necessary by the prefixing
of the first two parts to the original Purāa.
(Pargiter 1904, v)
It cannot truly be said that the Birds “retire” beyond the introductory
section of the text since they resurface at the beginning of each section in
order to navigate Jaimini’s subsequent lines of inquiry (see Table 4.3).
Pargiters observation is apt insofar as if we put aside the Birds’
resurfacing in Canto 10 (to receive Jaimini’s second barrage of questions)
and Canto 45 (to receive Jaimini’s third barrage of questions), that they
merely mouth the words of other expositors, all the while themselves
remaining silent for the 126 cantos occurring between the first ten and final
Table 4.3
of the Purāa’s cantos. However, despite their ‘direct’ expositional
presence in merely eleven cantos of the MkP, these eleven cantos very
much comprise prime Purāic real estate, constituting the initial and
terminal frame of the assemblage as a whole. It is at these most crucial
framing junctures that the Birds most richly contribute to the assemblage
and this is unsurprising, since they were invented and implemented for the
very purposes of framing the MkP. The assemblers of the MkP install the
Birds as the primary speaker of the Purāa in order to reframe it through
the expositor import accompanying the Birds’ career. We will therefore
more closely examine their role in the initial and terminal frames of the
MkP. In order to obtain an overview of the way in which we will chart the
presence of the Birds in the MkP, see Table 4.4.
Birds in the intermediary sections of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
SEC Cantos Verses Content
2 10–44 10.7–14; 32;
45
Introduce and Contextualize Father–Son
44.37–40 Closes off the Father–Son discourse; prompts Jaimini for further
questions
3 46–
135
45.15–19 Introduces manvantara discourse
Since (as discussed in Chapter Q) the vast majority of the import is
typically derived from the initial frame, and it is in the initial frame of the
MkP wherein we encounter the backstory of the Birds, let us first very
briefly examine the terminal frame of the MkP. Table 4.5 presents a
snapshot of the final canto of the MkP.
The Birds, of course, resurface at this point after their long silence so as
to harken their presence in the MkP’s initial frame, and to attend to the
various frames in need of closure. They firstly provide a concluding frame
for the MV section and Mārkaṇḍeya’s discourse to Krauṣṭuki at large
(MkP 137), a summation for all three expositional sections (MkP 137.5–6),
a descriptive laudation of the Mahāpurāas, and then the phalaśruti section.
The closing off of the presence of the Birds themselves occurs in the final
three verses of the work, wherein Jaimini lauds the nature and the learning
of the Birds, before declaring: “Let evil-minded-ness that springs from pain
wrought by a fathers curse depart from you!” (MkP 137.40–42) (Pargiter
1904, 688). The very last words escaping Jaimini’s lips harkens to the
Table 4.4
Table 4.5
Birds’ curse, corresponding to the very first words escaping their beaks
upon first setting sight on Jaimini, where they say:
To-day has our birth become fruitful, and our lives have been well-
lived, inasmuch as we see thy lotus-feet which are worthy to be praised
by the gods. The blazing fire of our fathers anger, which continues in
our bodies, has been quenched today by the water of the sight of thee,
O brahman.
(MkP 4.17–21) (Pargiter 1904, 18–19)
Birds throughout the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Birds in the final section of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
The MkP then serves as a remedy for the Birds’ curse and in order to
unpack what that curse represents, let us probe the initial segment of the
MkP wherein we learn the backstory of the Birds.
4.2.3 The plight of Prav
tti
From the diachronic perspective discussed at the outset of this chapter, the
Birds’ backstory occupies what is considered (aside from the DM) the latest
additions to the MkP, and thus from that perspective, an ancillary accretion
to the work’s most ancient core. In broaching the MkP with an eye to
establishing the relative antiquity of sections or verses, one is inclined to
equate antiquity with authenticity and to undermine the presence of Section
I as a “later interpolation”. However, given that the implementation of the
Birds does not serve any particular sectarian interest, what then, is its
function? This framing feature is among the MkP’s most recent assemblage
initiatives and in viewing it as integral to the most up-to-date articulation of
the MkP, we might understand the religious ideologies occasioning and
sustaining its cultural relevance. To dismiss as ancillary the framing section
of the MkP is to direly devalue the craftsmanship exhibited throughout its
implementation; for it succeeds, from a synchronic stance, not only in
ideologically orienting the entire assemblage of tributaries but also in
demonstrating an intimate intertextuality with the Mahābharata, artfully
harkening to the inaugural framing of the great epic. This section addresses
to the former of these accomplishments, while the latter achievement shall
be broached in the Conclusion.
By virtue of expositor import in tracing the backstory of the Birds, we
will gain insight into the nature of the MkP Purāa. The fact that these
otherwise-unknown Birds are inventions of this work alone is corroborated
by the fact that their backstory is conveniently included in the text itself.
That the assemblers of the MkP were keen on imbuing the work with the
Birds’ import can be corroborated by the fact that they provide the
backstory of the Birds within the first three cantos of the text. Also telling is
the fact that all other material within the MkP is relayed by the Birds except
the section outlining their backstory, which is the sole element which
Mārkaṇḍeya relays to Jaimini himself; while the Birds tell their own story
to this Sage Śamīka (who rescues, saves and raises them), this story is
purposefully placed in the mouth of Mārkaṇḍeya, relayed to Jaimini before
he even meets them (MkP 3.15–80) (Pargiter 1904, 12–16). Their
backstory, therefore, provides penetrating insight into Mārkaṇḍeya’s role in
the initial frame narrative of the MkP.
The circumstances necessitating the introduction of the Birds shall shed
light upon what the Birds might be said to represent. When Jaimini asks
Mārkaṇḍeya the inaugural four questions, Mārkaṇḍeya indicates that the
time has arrived for him to perform his religious rites (kriyākāle
samprāpta
, MkP 1.19) and refers Jaimini to the wise Vindhya-dwelling
Birds (MkP 1.19–22). Pargiter remarks that Mārkaṇḍeya makes a
“transparent excuse”14 at the opening of the MkP in order to refer Jaimini to
the Birds. One readily understands why Pargiter deems this to be a flimsy
excuse insofar as one imagines that Mārkaṇḍeya could easily have
requested Jaimini to return when Mārkaṇḍeya completed his rite (kriyā),
for it is not as if he was about to embark upon pilgrimage or any such
activity which would have incurred extended leave. And while his response
to Jaimini may very well serve as a narrative conceit on the part of the text,
it is probably not one which Mārkaṇḍeya disingenuously invents in that
moment since he is described in the very opening line of the Purāa (upon
Jaimini’s approach) as deeply engaged in austerity and study (tapa
-
svādhyāya-nirata): the inaugural verse of the MkP reads: “The illustrious
Jaimini, the disciple of Vyasa, interrogated the great Muni Markandeya,
who was engaged in the performance of austerities and the study of the
Veda” (MkP 1.1) (Pargiter 1904, 2). One is, therefore, presented with a
Mārkaṇḍeya who is already engaged, rather than one who excuses himself
on the pretence of being engaged.
Yet, the text nevertheless insinuates something ulterior at play in
Mārkaṇḍeya’s deferral to the Birds. For upon doing so, the astonished
Jaimini asks four additional interrelated questions about the nature of these
extraordinary Birds. While it is reasonable enough that Mārkaṇḍeya defers
answering Jaimini’s questions on the basis that he was already engaged and
couldn’t spare the time, it is intriguing that he takes the time to answer
Jaimini’s subsequent four questions, driven by astonishment at the existence
of these Birds. Given that the Birds take 91 verses (spanning Cantos 4–7) in
order to address Jaimini’s original questions, one presumes that
Mārkaṇḍeya would have been able to answer Jaimini’s questions in
approximately the same number of verses. Yet, pressed for time, he defers
these questions and when asked additional questions about the Birds, he
willingly proceeds to take up 177 verses (spanning Cantos 1–3), to answer
those questions. For a breakdown of Section I of the MkP, see Table 4.6.
As opposed to asking why Mārkaṇḍeya deploys a ‘flimsy excuse’
(which is inapt, given his bone fide engagement in religious practice), a
perhaps more apt line of inquiry is: why does Mārkaṇḍeya make time for
the second set of questions but not the first? It is surely significant to the
assemblers of the MkP that Jaimini’s first four questions are exposited by
the Birds, and conversely, that the backstory of the Birds (the answer to
Jaimini’s second four questions) are exposited by Mārkaṇḍeya. Let us first
approach the latter: what is it that Mārkaṇḍeya reveals in conveying the
backstory of the Birds?
Table 4.6
Table 4.7
Birds in Section I of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
Backstory of the Birds
Canto Verses Content
1 27–54 Bird’s mothers karmic antecedent curse explained
2a 1–31 Avian Rebirth of Vapu as Tārkī
2b 32–65 Birth of the Birds, and aftermath
3 1–85 Bird’s karmic antecedent curse explained
As discussed above, the karmic antecedent of the Birds’ birth results
from a curse they earned as brahmin youths from their father, Sukṛṣa, for
failing to sacrifice their lives to feed Indra in avian guise. Mārkaṇḍeya ends
his backstory discourse by discussing this curse. He begins his discourse by
disclosing the karmic antecedent of how their bird mother, Tārkī, was
cursed to be born a bird (see Table 4.7).
Mārkaṇḍeya sets the scene wherein Sage Nārada encounters Indra, who
is being entertained by an entourage of dancing Apsaras. When asked by
Indra to judge who among them was pre-eminent in “beauty, nobility, and
good qualities” (MkP 1.36) (Pargiter 1904, 4), the Seer declares that it
would be she who could perturb the penance-performing Muni Durvāsa.
The apsara Vapu, confident that she could fit the bill, attempts to disrupt the
discipline of Durvāsa. But rather than inciting the sage’s lust, she provokes
the passion of his wrath. Durvāsa curses Vapu to be reborn as a bird
(Tārkī) for the span of sixteen years, begetting four offspring (namely, the
Birds of our Purāa) but dying on a battlefield15 without knowing their
affection (MkP 1.27–54). Sage Mārkaṇḍeya’s discourse, therefore, is
framed by two curses, each launched by an angered ascetic.
Mārkaṇḍeya is inspired to make time for his line of questioning
regarding the origin of the Birds, unlike with respect to Jaimini’s first four
questions. Arguably, this is the case because the Birds’ backstory extols the
virtue and the power of asceticism and the brahmins who hold that power.16
Ascetics are emblematic of niv
tti religiosity, of which the mighty
Mārkaṇḍeya might serve as an esteemed exemplar. Mārkaṇḍeya’s Section
I discourse is framed by the prowess of two fellow ascetics, Sukṛṣa and
Durvāsa, whose respective wrath succeeds in punishing two transgressions
to niv
ttic ideology: sexuality and self-preservation. Broadly speaking, the
former might be understood as the urge to cleave to the body of another,
while the second might be understood as the urge to cleave to the body of
oneself. Vapu is overconfident in her ability to allure the senses of the self-
controlled Durvāsa (MkP 1.42–44), and therefore Durvāsa specifically
condemns her as being drunk with pride (MkP 1.50). However, pride is her
secondary vice. She takes pride in her ability to sensually allure. Being an
apsara, she represents the sine qua non of apsaras and threat to asceticism
bar none: sexuality. This nicely follows from chastity being the sine qua
non of ascetic life. Testimony of the structural opposition between the
respective function of ascetic and apsara might be found in the vast number
of South Asian tales wherein apsaras are specifically deployed to distract
austere adherents to celibate life, especially by Indra who fears the growing
prowess being generated by their austerities. The ascetic is called to rigidly
reject sensual indulgence and the apsara is called to embody and celebrate
such indulgence. It is Vapu’s bent towards pleasure and sexuality which
ultimately earns her a curse from Durvāsa. As punishment for her joie de
vivre, Durvāsa curses Vapu to be born a bird, to give birth, then to die upon
a battlefield. Not only does he revoke her apsara form for the span of
sixteen years (causing her to reside in avian form for that time), he curses
her to procreate (a prime function of sexuality) and be denied enjoyment of
her progeny.
Similarly, Sage Sukṛṣa remains staunchly detached from flesh for which
he earns a boon from Indra. His detachment expresses as life-denial,
enabling him to sacrifice his sons to Indra’s appetite. Once his sons express
their despondency, he is sufficiently detached from his own embodied
existence that he proceeds to sacrifice his own life, though his hand was
stayed by Indra who revealed the ruse at the eleventh hour. Once Indra
reveals his identity, the remorseful Sukṛṣa bemoans the foibles of human
existence which is ever subject to the power of destiny. He is emblematic of
life-denial and this is portrayed as prowess. His sons’ ‘weakness’ is that
they cherish life, for which they are cursed to be reborn as birds. Both
sexuality (represented by Vapu) and the self-preservation (represented by
the four sons) function as threats to the ideals of niv
ttic religiosity; as such,
they are rebuked in the framing section of the MkP by esteemed ascetic
practitioners. Thus, the two episodes framing Mārkaṇḍeya’s backstory
discourse feature curses issued by life-denying practitioners. And perhaps it
is for this reason, the great ascetic Mārkaṇḍeya takes interest in telling
these tales. As for Jaimini’s inaugural questions, they are, on the contrary,
prav
ttic in scope. They are geared towards human, worldly, social
concerns. And it is perhaps for this reason that Mārkaṇḍeya does not bother
to address them – they interrupt the thrust of ascetic life.
The answer to Jaimini’s first question (i.e. ‘Why did Viṣṇu take on a
human incarnation?’) pertains, in a nutshell, to the preservation of life.
Conversely, it was in seeking the preservation of their own life that the
Brahmins were cursed to be reborn as Birds. Moreover, the answer to this
question is far from esoteric: it is very well known, emphasized as a central
tenant in the most famous tributary to the Mahābhārata, the BhG.
Therefore, Jaimini asks this question not because he wishes to know the
answer, but rather, in order to underscore its importance for the sake of
inaugurating the MkP. In short, the assemblers of the MkP opt to invoke
prav
tti dharma, as expressed through the aspect of godhead vowed to
defend it, from the very inception of the work, at the outset of the MkP.
Similarly, Jaimini’s second question (i.e. ‘Why did Draupadī have five
husbands, the ṇḍavas?’) is equally wedded to the dictates of prav
tti
dharma and equally obvious to anyone familiar with the Mahābhārata,
much less the pupil of Vyāsa; for as Hiltebeitel notes that “Vyāsa, who by
chance arrived” (1.187.32d), sanctions the marriage by telling Draupadī’s
father Drupada the Pañcendra-Upākhyāna (Hiltebeitel 2010, 157). The
same might be said of both Jaimini’s third and fourth questions, that is,
‘How could Baladeva remedy Brahman-murder through pilgrimage?’ and
‘How could the ṇḍavas’ sons be murdered, as if they had no
protection?’, respectively.
All of Jaimini’s questions are oriented towards this world and social
navigation within it. It is only later on (in MkP Sections II and III) that
Jaimini seeks metaphysical knowledge. The Birds represent affirmation of
life and, as corroborated by the enthusiasm with which they receive
Jaimini’s questions (an enthusiasm juxtaposed by Mārkaṇḍeya’s
aloofness), they specifically represent the ethos of prav
tti dharma. It is for
their attachment to prav
ttic religiosity that they are cursed. Moreover,
recall that relaying the MkP is the means whereby the Birds become free of
their fathers curse (śāpa). The MkP might therefore be said to represent a
means to pacify the extent to which prav
tti dharma attains an accursed
hue, viewed through the lofty lens of niv
ttic ideology. The assemblers of
the MkP therefore place its teachings to the Birds who can authentically
embody the theme of life affirmation, a theme which runs throughout the
assemblage.
One cannot invoke prav
tti dharma in an ideological vacuum; while
invoking prav
tti dharma, one must in the same breath invoke its structural
counterpart niv
tti dharma, through contrast to which it attains its
distinction. Furthermore, given the indispensability of both of these
ideological apexes, the MkP cannot exalt one at the expense of the other.
Rather, it exhibits great creativity in the lengths it takes to preserve the
tension between the two, a tension which remains fundamentally insoluble.
For example, when Sukṛṣa’s sons (the Birds in their past life) beg their
fathers pardon, they admit to their love of life and proceed to elucidate
precisely why bodily attachment is philosophically errant (MkP 3. 55–74).
Likewise, in Section II of the MkP, during the conversation between the
Father and Sumati-Jaa, Queen Madālasā educates her son, Alarka, on both
these ideologies, as Hazra notes, “chapters 27–35 dealing with Pravtti-
dharma and to chapters 39–43 dealing with Nivtti-dharma or Yoga” (Hazra
1975, 11). The tension between the two ideologies is presented not only in
Queen Madālasā’s exposition but also in the narrative cradling that
exposition. Upon the completion of Alarka’s education and his instalment
upon the throne, she and Radhvaja (her husband and Alarka’s father)
depart for the forest to perform austerities. Similarly at the end of his own
reign, dissatisfied with the entrapments of worldly life, Alarka follows suit.
Turning momentarily to the Purāic context of the DM, the fate of the
merchant relates directly to the MkP’s polemic against prav
tti religion
whereby Dattatreya (speaking to Alarka) attacks the ideology of
householders. The forest exchange between King Alarka and Sage
Dattatreya parallels that between Suratha and Medhas.
Dattatreya’s explicit critique (implicit in the words of Medhas) asserts
that the householder acts out his fundamentally insatiable desire for
offspring, money, and general gain. Dattatreya attributes the householders
aspiration to selfishness dominated by the I-sense, that is, I notions of ‘I’
(aham) and ‘mine’ (mama) (Bailey 1986, 69). Greg Bailey’s translation of
the pertinent passage reads:
Thinking ‘it is mine’ (mama) is the source of misery (dukha) and
thinking ‘it is not mine’ is the source of emancipation. With the
thought ‘I am’ (aham) has the sprout arisen and with the thought ‘it is
mine’, it becomes like a great trunk whose topmost boughs are houses
and fields with sons, wives and other beings as its twigs. Wealth and
grains are its largest leaves and it has grown up many times. Merit and
demerit are its outermost flowers and its largest fruits are misery and
happiness. This great tree is the knowledge of what should be done and
it is opulent with bees which are the desire to act. It concerns the path
to emancipation and oozes out at the touch of the perplexed. Some who
are tired of the way of sasāra, and are anxious about happiness,
knowledge and perplexity, take refuge in the shade of that tree But
there are some who cut this tree which is “mineness” (mamatā) with
the axe of knowledge, sharpened on the stone of attachment to truth.
They have gone by that path where, having reached the forest of
Brahman, cool, dustless and free from difficulties, they, wise without
activities, attain supreme bliss.
(MkP 38.6–13) (Bailey 1986, 68)
This sentiment finds a direct corollary in the desire of the
disenfranchisement-driven merchant of the DM: “And the wise vaiśya, his
mind despairing of things of this world, chose knowledge/Which destroys
attachment to the notions of ‘I’ and ‘mine’ (DM13.12–13) (Coburn 1991,
84). The background of the MkP exchange is as follows: ta-dhvaja
(Alarka’s father) becomes aged and leaves for the forest with his wife
Madālasā (Alarka’s mother) to practice austerities, passing the sovereignty
on to Alarka. Madālasā (who had spent the previous two cantos educating
her son) delivers her final teachings to him at this point “in order that her
son might abandon attachment to sensual pleasures” (MkP 36.5) (Pargiter
1904, 186). She says to him:
When intolerable pain, arising from separation from thy dear kinsmen,
or caused by the opposition of thy enemies, or springing from the
destruction of thy wealth, or from thy own self, may befall thee as thy
rulest thy kingdom, observing the laws of a householder for the
householder depending on selfishness makes unhappiness his abode
then, my son, draw forth, draw forth and read from the ring that I have
given thee the writing that is inlaid in delicate letters on the plate.
(MkP 36.6–8) (Pargiter 1904, 186)
The text appears favourably to Alarka’s kingly dharma, informing us that he
“protected justly and like children his glad people” (MkP 37.1) (Pargiter
1904, 187) – note the parallel to Suratha who was robbed of his rule “While
he was protecting all creatures well, like his own sons” (Coburn 1991, 32) –
and that he prospered for many years “devoted to righteousness, wealth, and
the gratification of his desires” (MkP 37.6) (Pargiter 1904, 187).
Nevertheless, Alarka’s forest-roaming brother, Subāhu, “heard that [Alarka]
was thus besotted in his attachment to pleasure, and uncontrolled in his
senses” (MkP 37.8) (Pargiter 1904, 187), and carried out a scheme in order
to set him straight. Subāhu formed an alliance with the King of Kāśī who,
with his retinue of forces forming alliances with neighbouring kings,
attacked Alarka’s domain (MkP 37.9–17). The MkP’s attack on worldly
engagement does not occur without a paradoxical esteem for prav
tti
dharma; in the words of Desai, “a reading of this text shows that the
supportive role of the householder is equal to that attributed to the yajamāna
in the śrauta sacrifice of the Brāhmaas” (Bailey 1986, 57). Similarly, the
MkP declares that: “the man who has accepted householder status nourishes
all the universe. The fathers, sages, gods, living being and mankind, worms,
insects, and flying creatures, birds, cattle and demons subsist upon the
householder and thereby become satisfied” (Bailey 1986, 57). Furthermore,
we are told that before finally departing, Madālasā gives Alarka “the
blessings appropriate for a man who lives the family life” (MkP 35.9)
(Pargiter 1904, 186). The householder is depicted in the MkP as a crucial
link in creating harmony among and linking together the beings of the
triple-world by means of the performance of sacrifice, of ritual action. The
prav
tti world-view stresses the interdependence of humanity with other
beings in the three worlds who are all bound together by reciprocal
relationships, and though humanity may be privileged in this scheme, the
householders individuality is not emphasized, but rather his centrality is
predicated on the centrality of sacrifice and the wealth required to uphold
the sacrifice which upholds the cosmic order (Bailey 1986, 65–6).
Most intriguing is how Madālasā’s teachings to Alarka are framed.
Radhvaja and Madālasā had three sons before Alarka and she proceeded to
offer them each a niv
ttic education, such that her first son, “instructed by
her from his birth, having understanding and being unselfish, did not turn
his mind towards family life” (MkP 36.3) (Pargiter 1904, 142). The second
and third son attained a similarly niv
ttic bend due to their mothers
influence. At last, upon the birth of their fourth (and final) son Alarka, King
Radhvaja appeals to her to offer a prav
ttic education to Alarka, schooling
him in the ways of k
atriya (and kingly) duty, particularly for the sake of
providing for the pit
s (MkP 25.26–33). As Hazra insightfully notes:
This request of the king to his wife Madālasā to give instructions to
Alarka about the duties of the Katriyas and to train him in the
Pravtti-mārga so that the Pits may not be deprived of the offerings of
water and rice-balls and the gods, men and lower animals may get their
respective shares, presupposes the instructions on the duties of kings,
on the duties of the castes and Āśramas, and on the funeral sacrifices
given by Madālasā to Alarka in chaps. 27–35.
(Hazra 1975, 12–13)
Sovereignty is indispensable to prav
ttic religious practice; the foundational
centre of the office of the king is protection, he protects the practitioners,
and institutions, upholding the prav
ttic wheel of the world. It is
sovereignty which safeguards the ideals of prav
tti.
The violence of kingship is crucial for the upkeep of prav
tti dharma
and the affirmation of worldly, bodily life. And for this reason, blood
besmears even the exploits of ascetics in Mārkaṇḍeya’s Section I discourse.
Paradoxically, Sage Sukṛṣa observes his vow of satya in honouring his
words to avian-Indra; however, in resorting to violence, first to his sons,
then to himself, he dispenses with his vow to ahisā. The Sukṛṣa episode
is representative not only of the ritualist’s sacrifice of blood but also of the
katriya’s. The steadfast sage of our episode, having sworn to protect the
downtrodden bird (avian-Indra), sacrifices his vow of ahi in order to
preserve the life of the wretched creature. And the violence he would
willingly commit would destroy his own progeny nonetheless. While the
position of the sage (who requests his sons sacrifice themselves) and the
position of the sons (who refuse to do so) are at odds, they both articulate
variations on the same pan-Purāic theme: the sons aim to preserve
themselves, while the sage aims to preserve the downtrodden bird. The sage
declares “of me has this bird sought protection oppressed with hunger and
thirst; wherefore let him be straightway satisfied with your flesh, and let his
thirst be quickly assuaged with your blood” (MkP 3.37) (Pargiter 1904, 13).
The sons protest at the sage’s request on the basis that one cannot perform
pious acts without a body, citing holy law that “one should preserve one’s
self by all means necessarily” (MkP 3.39–42).
In this exchange it is not such that violence itself is lauded, which the
text makes clear through Sukṛṣạs admonishment of avian-Indra, who
himself refers to the consumption of flesh as a transgression. It is protection
that is lauded. That Sukṛṣa’s ascetic vow of satya, ironically, demands of
him a sacrifice of human flesh suggests the virtual impossibility of adhering
to niv
ttis stringent moral code, particularly where preservation is
concerned. The ethos of prav
tti, as manifest in the endless cycles of ritual
sacrifice which serves to preserve the prav
ttic sphere, is inextricable to the
sacrifice undertaken by Sukṛṣa. Swayed by the pressures of destiny, the
sage is made to eclipse his adherence to ahi
for the sake of a most
brutal act: the sacrifice of his own sons in the name of protecting another
creature. Protection the sine qua non of the warrior requires violence.
His willingness to commit violence in order to preserve one who he swears
to protect likens him to the k
atriya in general, and the king in particular,
whose sworn duty is to protect all creatures.
Violence for the sake of preservation is a theme residing not only at the
heart of sovereignty but also at the heart of the MkP. The prav
ttic theme of
1
2
preservation is invoked at the inauguration of the MkP, through Jaimini’s
first question pertaining to the purpose of the Preservers incarnation; a
Preserver who, unsurprisingly, takes birth in k
atriya (not brāhmaa) ranks.
The theme of lordly protection is also echoed in Jaimini’s fourth question,
since the first and the last question serve as the inaugural questions’ initial
and terminal frames, as it were. This theme is also echoed in the biography
of Mārkaṇḍeya himself: through the violent destruction of Yama,
Mārkaṇḍeya is preserved in a state of eternal youth, blessed by Śiva’s
wrathful grace. The violence of prav
tti is further featured in the fury of
Dama, whose k
atriya wrath both punishes evil in order to protect dharma
and sates his ancestors with the blood of that punishment. Furthermore, it is
precisely the MkP’s emphasis on the affairs of the world, represented
socially by the office of the king, that constitute a fitting backdrop for the
DM. But this backdrop is not fitting only insofar as it celebrates prav
tti
dharma alone, but in its intricate preservation of the tension between
prav
tti and niv
tti, a tension enshrined within the framing of the DM itself.
The call of prav
tti is manifest in the appeal of King Suratha to the Devī to
win back his kingdom by means of force. Yet, his prav
ttic boon is earned
alongside the boon of mok
a, granted to his disenfranchized merchant
companion. Nevertheless, as shall be demonstrated, the pursuit of mok
a is
eclipsed by the grandeur of a Goddess who is inextricably bound to the
cycles of creation, and the proper governance thereof. Thus, her virtues are
nourished by the soil of the MkP wherein is extolled, in tandem,
sovereignty, sacrifice and the blood of life; for, it is the prav
ttic office of
preservation which must regulate its flow.
As noted, the question pertains to Jaimini’s confusions regarding the Mahābhārata. We might
note further that it cannot be such that Jaimini is asking after anything new, since all available
knowledge resides within the MBh. He is asking for further exposition on what the MkP
already contains. By extension it would accord Mārkaṇḍeya’s exposition (i.e. the MkP) as
foremost among available Purāic compilations offering exegesis on the MBh itself.
Pargiter’s translation of this benediction follows:
May Vishnu’s lotus-feet, which power have
To dissipate the woes wrought by the fear
Of existence, and which are lauded high
By ascetics, assiduous, whose minds
From all things else are rapt – may those same feet,
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
Whose steps the earth, the sky, and heaven o’erpassed,
To sight appearing, purify your souls!
May He protect you, who is skilled to save
In every kind of sin impure; whose form
Within the bosom of the sea of milk
Upon the hooded snake reclines; and at
Whose touch the sea grows mountainous, its spray
Up-tossing from its waters by his breath
Disturbed, and into seeming dancing breaks.
(Pargiter 1904, 1)
Birds with an uppercase shall be used herein as a proper noun referring to the characters within
the MkP.
The story of these Birds intertextually evokes the sārgaka birds who survive the burning of
the khāṇḍava in the terminal frame of the Ādiparvan, of whom they are descendants (Balkaran
2020).
Pargiter notes that this same succession of solar kings (i.e. Marutta à Nariyanta à Dama à
Rājyavardhana) are also detailed in the Vi
ṣṇ
u Purā
a, 4.1 (Pargiter 1904, 577).
What comes to mind is the take of Bharata’s in the Mahābhārata who earns the epithet
Sarvadamana during his youth at Kava’s āśrama, given his ability to subdue the beasts of the
forest (see MBh I.68.9) (van Buitenen 1973, I: 165).
Wilson writes,
a rather chivalric and curious story is told of Dama in the Márkandeya. His bride Sumaná,
daughter of the king Daśárha, was rescued by him from his rivals. One of them, Bapushmat,
afterwards killed Marutta, who had retired into the woods, after relinquishing his crown to his
son. Dama in retaliation killed Bapushmat, and made the Pińd󰛄a, or obsequial offering to his
father, of his flesh: with the remainder he fed the Brahmans of Rákshasa origin: such were the
kings of the solar race.
(Wilson 1961, 353, n. 22)
In his introduction to the MkP, only after dedicating approximately 2,500 words speculating on
the MkP’s probable place of origin (Pargiter 1904, viii–xiii), and another 3,000 words
speculating on the Purāa’s dates of composition, (Pargiter 1904, xiii–xx), does Pargiter
proceed (under the final heading of his introduction to the MkP is titled “Other matters of
interest”) to briefly remark upon issues of thematic elements of the MkP wherein he discusses
the Dama episode.
Recall that Sage Sukṛṣa says to his sons “let [avian-Indra] be straightway satisfied with your
flesh, and let his thirst be quickly assuaged with your blood” (MkP 3.37; see Pargiter 1904, 13).
Sukṛṣa further specifically connects funerary rites and the sacrifice of blood and flesh speaking
to avian-Indra as follows: “when I have performed for myself the final sacrifice, and my
obsequies, according to the śāstras, do thou unhesitatingly eat me here; this my body I here
grant thee for food” (MkP 3.46) (Pargiter 1904, 14).
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
Also while on the topic of what later tradition would deem “left-handed” religiosity devoted to
the Goddess.
it is worthy of note that indulgence in spirituous liquor and in sensual enjoyments is
viewed with little or no disapprobation in the story of Dattātreya; and meat and strong drink
are mentioned as most acceptable offerings in the worship of Dattātreya (p. 106), as an
incarnation of Viṣṇu (p. 99).
(see Pargiter 1904, xxi).
Furthermore, from Viśvakarman’s hymn to the Sun: “By reason of thy intoxication from
drinking up like spirituous liquor the darkness of the world, thy body has acquired a deep red
hue” (MkP 107.7; see Pargiter 1904, 573).
Although Indra stays Sukṛṣa’s hand at the eleventh hour so to speak, he is pleased by the sage’s
willingness to offer blood – a blood which he himself demanded.
The names he gives are: Pigāka, Vibodha, Suputra and Sumukha (MkP 1.21) (Pargiter 1904,
3).
Mārkaṇḍeya relays the Birds’ backstory verbatim as they themselves relay it to Sage Śamīka
(MkP 3.15–80) (Pargiter 1904, 12–16).
“Markandeya does not himself explain the questions but, declining with a transparent excuse,
refers Jaimini to the Birds” (Pargiter 1904, xxi).
The battlefield in question is none other than the field of Kuru, and the battle in question is
none other than the Great War featured in the Mahābhārata. This is part of a highly conscious
intertextual enterprise between the MBh and MkP (Balkaran 2020).
Similarly, “Mārkaṇḍeya narrates the story of Parikit Aikvākava and sons at Mahābhārata
3.190 in a combination of prose and verse, ostensibly to exemplify the power of the Brahmins”
(see Brodbeck 2009, 227).
Works cited in this chapter
Bailey, Greg. 1986. Materials for the Study of Ancient Indian Ideologies: Prav
tti and Niv
tti.
Torino: Ed. Jollygrafica.
Balkaran, Raj. 2020. “Avian Artistry: Decoding the Intertextuality between Mahābhārata and
Mārkaṇḍeya Purāa”. International Journal of Hindu Studies 1 (1): 1–30.
Brodbeck, Simon. 2009. The Mahābhārata Patriline: Gender, Culture, and the Royal Hereditary.
Farnham, England; Burlington, VT: Ashgate.
Buitenen, J.A.B. van, trans. 1973. Mahābhārata: Volume 1: Book 1: The Book of the Beginning. Vol.
I. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.
Buitenen, J.A.B. van, trans. 1975. Mahābhārata: Volume 2: The Book of the Assembly Hall; Book 3:
The Book of the Forest. Vol. II. [Chicago, IL]: University of Chicago Press.
Coburn, Thomas B. 1991. Encountering the Goddess: A Translation of the Devī-Māhātmya and a
Study of Its Interpretation. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.
Hazra, R.C. 1975. Studies in the Purā
ic Records on Hindu Rites and Customs. Delhi: Motilal
Banarsidass.
Hiltebeitel, Alf. 2010. Reading the Fifth Veda Studies on the Mahabharata: Essays. Edited by
Vishwa Adluri and Joydeep Bagchee. Leiden: Brill.
Mani, Vettam. 1975. Purā
ic Encyclopaedia: A Comprehensive Dictionary with Special Reference to
the Epic and Purā
ic Literature. Delhi : Motilal Banarsidass.
Monier-Williams, Ernst Leumann, Carl Cappeller and Īśvaracandra. 2008. “Monier Williams
Sanskrit–English Dictionary (2008 Revision)”.
Pargiter, F. Eden, trans. 1904. Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a. Calcutta: Asiatic Society of Bengal.
www.wisdomlib.org/hinduism/book/the-markandeya-purana.
Rocher, Ludo. 1986. The Purā
as, edited by Jan Gonda. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz.
Smith, J.Z. 1978. Map is Not Territory: Studies in the Histories of Religions. Leiden: Brill.
Wilson, Horace Hayman, trans. 1961. The Vi
ṣṇ
u Purā
a: A System of Hindu Mythology and
Tradition. Calcutta: Punthi Pustak.
Winternitz, Moriz. 1972. A History of Indian Literature. Vol. 1. New Delhi: Oriental Books Repr.
Corp.
Conclusion
Paragons of preservation: Goddess, Sun, King
5.1 The Sun and preservation
5.1.1 The Sun protects Yudhi
ṣṭ
hira
Book II of the Mahābhārata, “The Book of The Forest”, holds great
significance for the discussion at hand. Turning to the initial frame of the
book, we see Janamejaya asking how the ṇḍavas and their entourage
survive their forest exile. Janamejaya explains that he was followed into the
forest by a large number of brahmins, from whom, despite their absence of
concern for their own welfare, he felt obliged to provide. He reverently
approaches his wise priest, Dhaumya, asking after how to fulfil his duty and
provide for the brahmins. Upon reflection, Dhaumya tells Yudhiṣṭhira that
creatures all hungered when first they were created until the Sun provided
for them out of fatherly compassion. He impregnated the earth with his heat
for the generation of food. Dhaumya reasons that since he thus supplies the
food that sustains all life, the Sun is the father of all creatures. He then
exhorts Yudhiṣṭhira to take refuge in the Sun, ritually purifying himself and
petitioning for aid. Yudhiṣṭhira then undertakes (niv
ttic) austerity
fasting, controlling his breathing, mastering his senses and makes offerings
to the Sun (MBh III.3.1–15). Yudhiṣṭhira here engages in niv
ttic
religiosity for the sake of generating the merit to harness for his prav
ttic
aims. At this point, the narrative zooms out one frame as Janamejaya asks
Vaiśapāyana after the manner in which Yudhiṣṭhira placates the Sun, to
which Vaiśapāyana replies that Yudhiṣṭhira intoned the 108 names of the
Sun as taught him by Dhaumya, who learned it from Nārada, who in turn
learned it from Indra (III.3.15–30). Notable for our purposes is that the
source of this ritual invocation to the Sun is not a sagacious or spiritual
creature: this formula to the Sun stems from the king of the gods of heaven,
incessantly engaged in the prav
ttic aims.
Yudhiṣṭhira’s propitiation bears fruit, quite literally. The Sun, pleased by
his penance and praise, appears to the dharma king in a flaming form and
promises to provide ample food and water for him and his entourage for
their twelve years of exile, before vanishing. The dharma king arose
victorious from his penance, sought Dhaumya’s blessings, embraced his
brothers and joined Draupadī in the kitchen who looked on as he prepared
the food himself. Their rations miraculously multiplied to inexhaustible
proportions, with which he fed the brahmins, his brothers, and wife (MBh
III.4.1–9). Similar to the manner in which Yudhiṣṭhira propitiates the Sun,
the fruits of that labour, too, are emblematic of the dharmic double helix:
the Sun specifically blesses them with four foods available in the wilderness
to a forest ascetic fruits, roots, viands, and greens yet he mentions that
they are to be prepared in the ṇḍava kitchen. The use of fire for food
preparation is evocative not of the wilderness, but of city life, where thrives
the prav
tti religion. As a noble king, Yudhiṣṭhira proxies for the very Sun
whom he invokes insofar as he toils for the sake of preserving this world
and the beings within it. This comparison is made explicit in the epic which
sums up the episode thus: “So it befell that the prince, brilliant like the Sun,
obtained from the Sun this boon and gave to the brahmins what their hearts
desired” (van Buitenen 1975, II: 229). The Sun’s blessing here is an
homage to the prav
ttic duty of kings to protect and preserve their citizens,
a duty both symbolized and enacted by the Sun.
5.1.2 The Sun and Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
The connection between Mārkaṇḍeya and solar veneration is not only made
in the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a. The Mahābhārata, too, makes this fascinating
connection, in particular during the ṇḍavas’ encounter with the great
sage occurring in “The Book of the Forest”. The Pāṇḍavas forest exile is an
important juncture for our purposes, both in terms of setting and plot:
The tension between these opposing paragons, and their opposing
orientations toward the sphere of human enterprise, is poignantly
preserved in the narrative motif of kings who are (temporarily)
sentenced to forest exile where they commingle with, and often mimic,
ascetic figures from whom they receive social and moral instruction.
The most famous examples of these are the heroes of both Sanskrit
epics, who inevitably quit the aristocracy to roam the forest in ascetic
garb. Though the forest-teachings received by these figures often
promote an ethos of ascetic detachment and introspection, these
experiences paradoxically enrich the royal pupils’ capacity to rule.
(Balkaran 2019, 29)
It is interesting, then, that Mārkaṇḍeya who implicitly and explicitly
exposits the very dharmic double helix spun by the prav
tti–niv
tti
interplay should give by far the lengthiest discourse in The Book of The
Forest. Moreover, beyond the inclusion of Yudhiṣṭhira’s solar veneration at
the very outset of the epic’s forest book, there are subtle cues connecting
Mārkaṇḍeya and the Sun throughout. In the words of van Buitenen, The
Book of the Forest:
displays in a grand manner of what the Indian epic is capable it can
be divided into two large blocks: the vicissitudes of the heroes and
heroine in their forest exile and episodes relating to the main narrative
on the one hand, and, on the other, the manifold narratives to which
their sojourn in the forest gives occasion.
(van Buitenen 1975, II: 174)
While Mārkaṇḍeya is a major source of these teaching narratives, even
before he enters the stage to deliver his lengthy discourse, the ṇḍavas
encounter him in a brief but symbolically laden exchange. Mārkaṇḍeya
pays a visit to the ṇḍava entourage early on, when, we are told, he
remembers the fate of Rāma while beholding the ṇḍava’s sorrowful
state. He met up with Rāma as well when he was in exile. Mārkaṇḍeya
knows first-hand the tension dramatized by the king in forest exile,
witnessing it now in both Sanskrit epics. Mārkaṇḍeya in fact invokes the
forbearance of Rāma in counselling the Pāṇḍavas to embrace their hardship
in humility, since, while it is over, they will return gloriously like the
illustrious Sun (MBh III.26.4–26). It is significant that it is Mārkaṇḍeya
who points us to the parallels between the fate of the ṇḍavas, and that of
Rāma, heir to the solar line of kings. Rāma, bar none, is the face of the
dharmic double helix: embracing his prav
ttic duty at every turn while
embodying the virtues of niv
tti. Owing to the intertextual richness of
Sanskrit literature, Mārkaṇḍeya speaks volumes scarcely opening his
mouth, by showing up at a certain juncture and pointing to its significance
by invoking the story of Rāma.
After Mārkaṇḍeya’s lengthy exposition occurring later in the Book, the
text them returns to the main action wherein we see an exchange between
Draupadī and Satyabhāmā (MBh III.222–223), the Cattle Expedition, and
the abduction of Draupadī (III.248–256), directly following which
Mārkaṇḍeya then tells in full the story of Rāma (III.257–275). Crucial for
the study at hand is the notion that Rāma is perhaps the paragon of
preservation along with the most prominent face of the dharmic double
helix. Our sagacious exiled king oscillates between the royal and ascetic
ideologies, between allegiance to both prav
tti and niv
tti values (Balkaran
2018a). The Story of the solar king Rāma is immediately followed by the
story of Sāvitrī, the daughter of the Sun, also including Yama, son of the
Sun (MBh III III.277–283). The Story of Rāma and Sāvitrī both feature
separation between man and wife (which is interestingly a feature of the
Sun’s loss of Sajñā). What follows is the Story of Kara, son of the Sun.
The transition here is rather abrupt, until you note the solar theme tying
together the threads of the “Book of the Forest”, commencing with
Yudhiṣṭhira overt veneration of the Sun.
Kara’s “The Robbing of the Earrings” (MBh III.284–286) functions as
the closing frame of Mārkaṇḍeya’s discourse. We are told that at the
beginning of the thirteenth and final year of the ṇḍavas forest exile,
Indra sets out to deprive Kara of his protective earrings through the ruse
of appearing as a begging brahmin. The Sun appears before his son, Kara,
also in the form of a brahmin, to warn him not to give away his earrings.
The Sun is motivated by great love and compassion for his son Kara. He
commences his address to Kara by declaring he speaks out of friendship.
Note that Mitra, ‘friend’, is one of the most ancient Vedic names of the Sun.
Kara responds by asking after the true identity of his interlocutor, who
speaks to him out of such friendship. To this, the Sun reveals his identity
and declares that he speaks out of affection for Kara and for his best
interest. Kara acknowledges that it must be so, and replies speaking out of
love for the Sun. Though Kara refuses the Sun’s advice, the Sun tries to
appeal to his status as a devotee, declaring he must protect his devotees, and
that none are so devoted to him as Kara. While Kara affirms his
superlative devotion to the Sun (dearer to him even than his sons or his
wife) and expressed deep appreciation and honour for the care the Sun has
shown him. But Kara nevertheless stubbornly insists that should Indra
appear before him in the form of a begging brahmin that he will do his duty
and supply the brahmin with his request, thereby retaining his honour and
earning fame. The Sun pleads with him, indicating doing so will cost him
his life, given the protective nature of his earrings, hinting at a dark secret
(which, unbeknownst to Kara is his true parentage as the son of Kuntī and
the Sun). Kara proudly assures his father that he will defeat Arjuna; but,
knowing better, the Sun implored Kara to ask for an unfailing spear, if he
were to give away his protective earrings.
At this point in the narrative, Janamejaya asks after Sūrya’s dark secret
and is told of Kuntī’s unfailing year-long hospitality looking after the needs
of a demanding brahmin who, in reward for her commendable service,
gives her a spell whereby she may conjure up any god to father her a son.
To test the spell, Kuntī conjures up the Sun, who arrives ready to
impregnate her with a son. Afraid, she asks him to leave, but he refuses,
since his own standing is at stake in this affair. Kuntī consents, appeased by
the Sun’s promise that she retains her maidenly virtue once they are done,
for fear of her relatives. He promises a Sun born with armour and a
breastplate. They lay together and the Sun departs (MBh III.290.10–22).
Upon successfully bringing her pregnancy to term in secrecy, she gives
birth to Kara and sends him in a basket down the river, which finds its
way to the town of Campa. Kara is retrieved by the childless sūta
Adhiratha and his wife Rādhā who gladly adopt the babe. Once he is grown,
he arrives at Hastinapura, competes with Arjuna, and makes an ally of
Duryodhana. Indra appears before him and demands his earrings; Kara
eventually relents on the condition that he receives an unfailing spear, as per
the Sun’s advice.
That the story of Kara occurs at this point in the Mahābhārata is
certainly not without significance. It serves as the terminal frame and
ultimate significators of the solar thread in the Book of The Forest. The Sun
protects his son Kara here as he protects Yudhiṣṭhira’s entourage at the
outset. The authors of the Mahābhārata chose to flesh out the story at this
very (seemingly abrupt) juncture, though they actually summarize the story
of Kara in Book One, the Ādiparvan (MBh I.104.1–20). In the Ādiparvan,
we learn of another crucial element of Kara’s story: his enmity with his
(unknown) half-brother Arjuna. This opposition is forged at the following
encounter (MBh I.124–127), as follows. The royal family and public
assemble in the arena at Hastinapura to witness the ṇḍava princes
perform a public display of their weapons skill, as suggested by Droa.
Arjuna demonstrates his formidable skill at arms at which point Kara
arrives and announces he can match Arjuna’s skill. Kara’s glorious
entrance into the arena is described as follows, replete with solar imagery:
His power and might were like the regal lion’s or bull’s or elephant’s,
and he was like sun, moon, and fire in brightness, beauty, and luster.
Tall he stood, like a golden palm tree, this youth with the hard body of
a lion. Innumerable were the virtues of this magnificent son of the Sun.
(MBh I.126.1–5) (van Buitenen 1973, I: 279)
Duryodhana offers him friendship, while Arjuna insults him as an
outsider to the proceedings, to which Kara responds by challenging him to
a duel. During the duel, the heroes’ celestial fathers show their support
through the forces of nature: Indra rains on Arjuna, while the Sun shines
down on Kara. So, while Arjuna is hidden in shadow, Kara stands in the
light of the Sun (MBh I.126.24–25). When Kara is asked after his lineage,
he hangs his head in shame, to which Duryodhana responds by installing
Kara as king of Anga. At this point, Kara’s foster father Adiratha enters
the scene and embraces his son, to which the ṇḍavas berate him for his
low birth as the son of a charioteer. His new ally Duryodhana defends him,
reasoning:
How could a doe give birth to this tiger who resembles the sun, with
his earrings and armor and celestial birthmarks? This lordly man
deserves to rule the world, not just Anga. He deserves it by the power
of his arms and by me who shall obey his orders.
(MBhI.127.5–20) (van Buitenen 1973, I: 281–2)
The festivities end at sundown.
Although the epic returns to the larger frame, and it is Vaiśapāyana
who tells Janamejaya this story, the “Robbing of the Earrings” subtale
returns our attention to Mārkaṇḍeya during its terminal frame. We are told
that the ṇḍavas are at long last at the end of their forest exile, and they
leave the hermitage with their priests, cooks, retainers, chariots, etc., upon
hearing the tales of old of seers and gods in all their richness from
Mārkaṇḍeya (MBh III.294.42–43). The MBh insists on rendering these
solar stories ultimately part of Mārkaṇḍeya’s discourse. Moreover, “The
Book of The Forest”’s final subtale and thus terminal frame is “The
Drillings Woods” (MBh III.295–299) where Yudhiṣṭhira is tested by his
father, the god Dharma. This encounter results from a motif carried over
from the Kara story, that is, a Vedic god in brahmin guise visiting the
ṇḍavas. Dharma disguised as a brahmin whose fire-drilling woods
have been caught up in the antlers of a deer asks Yudhiṣṭhira for help,
leading up to the tests in question. And his test occurs immediately after his
lengthy schooling from Mārkaṇḍeya.
5.1.3 The Sun protects Rāma
The only other place outside of the myths of the MkP and Sāmba Purā
a
where we see the Sun exalted as a supreme figure is in the Ādityahdaya of
the Vālmīki Rāmāyaa. A close synopsis follows. Sage Agastya is seated
among the gods as an onlooker of the important battle between Rāma and
Rāvaa. Seeing that Rāma is exhausted and made anxious by his battling
with Rāvaa, Agastya approaches Rāma and implores him to:
hear this immemorial secret teaching by means of which, my child, you
shall conquer all your enemies [adding that] one should constantly
intone this holy Ādityahdaya, which destroys all of one’s enemies and
brings victory [and] calms anxiety and grief.
(5–10) (van Nooten 2009, 1342).
Agastya exhorts Rāma to “worship Vivasvān, bringer of light, the lord of
the worlds, rising with his halo of rays, worshiped by the gods and asuras”
(11–12) (van Nooten 2009, 1342). He then goes on to proclaim the exalted
attributes of the Sun (13–48).
Before departing, Agastya assures Rāma that one who praises the Sun is
saved from all distress, difficulty and danger. He then declares:
Therefore, with a focused mind, you should worship that god of gods,
the lord of the worlds. For, having intoned this hymn three times, you
will be victorious in all your battles. This very hour, great-armed
warrior, you shall slay Rāvaa.
(49–54) (van Nooten 2009, 1343)
Upon receiving Agastya’s transmission of the Ādityahdaya, Rāma
becomes free from care. He gazes upon the Sun and intones the
Ādityahdaya before taking up his bow, fixing his gaze on his enemy, and
sallying forth to battle, with a delighted heart, determined to kill Rāvaa
(55–60). Then the Sun, surrounded by the hosts of gods, delights in
anticipation of the destruction of Rāvaa, gazes upon Rāma with the
excited words. “Make haste!” (61–64) (van Nooten 2009, 1343).
The supremacy of the Sun is explicitly established from the very outset
of Agastya’s glorification, as “the essence of all the gods. Filled with
blazing energy, he brings all beings to life with his rays. With his rays he
protects the gods, the asuras, and all the worlds” (13–14), adding that the
Sun is in essence all creatures, as the breath of life, the bringer of light, the
maker of the seasons (17–18). The Sun is also presented as a manifestation
of other deities. Not only does Agastya note some of the Sun’s solar forms
throughout that is, as Āditya, Savit, Sūrya, an (19); Ravi (23; 42),
Mārtaṇḍa (22), Āditya (34) he equates the Sun with various other Vedic
deities throughout: Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Śiva, Skanda, Prajāpati, Indra, Kubera,
Kāla, Yama, Soma and Varua, the ancestors, the Vasus, the Sādhyas, the
two Aśvins, the Maruts, Manu, Vāyu, Agni (15–17); Viśvakarman, Agni
(41), Tvaṣṭṛ (22). The Sun is even presented as the great gods of Hinduism,
for example, as Śambhu, the auspicious one (22), and as master of the k,
Yajur and Sāmavedas (25).
Beyond his equation with other deities, the Sun is described by his
various attributes for example, as: he who moves through the sky, radiant as
gold, the maker of day (19–20); the thousand-rayed lord of the tawny
steeds, master of seven horses, dispeller of darkness (21); the golden
embryo, the cooling one, the scorching one, the bringer of light (23); lord of
the heavens, the piercer of darkness, friend of the waters, cause of torrential
rains (25); the scorching one, the great orb, death, the golden one who
scorches all beings (27); lord of the constellations, planets, and stars; giver
of life; most radiant beings (29–30); the victorious one, he of the tawny
horses, who grants victory and auspiciousness; he of the thousand rays (33–
34); the eye of all the worlds (42); dispeller of darkness (42); rises on the
eastern mountain and sets on the western mountain; the lord of the hosts of
heavenly luminaries; the lord of day (31–32); the son of Aditi, he bears
Agni in his womb (24); omnipresent, of immense blazing energy, reddish in
hue, the source of all existence (28); a fierce warrior; the swift one; maker
of the lotus flower (35–36); banisher of darkness; bringer of the thaw;
slaughterer of enemies; destroyer of the ungrateful; lord of heavenly
luminaries (39–40).
The Ādityahdaya ultimately exalts Sūrya even above Viṣṇu, indeed
above the pantheon of Vedic gods and Hindu trimūrti of Brahmā–Viṣṇu–
Śiva alike: “Homage to radiant Sūrya, who is the lord of Brahmā, Lord
Śiva, and the imperishable Viṣṇu, whose radiance is that of Āditya and
who, in his fierce form, devours all creatures” (37–38) (van Nooten 2009,
1343). The final verses of the Ādityahdaya weave together various themes
to exalt Sūrya as integral to the cosmogonic functions of the great gods and
Vedic sacrifice, as indeed the essence of all activity:
He is the lord who destroys the creation and then creates it anew.
With his rays, he dries up, scorches, and inundates the world.
Lodged within all beings, he remains awake while they sleep.
He is the agnihotra sacrifice as well as the reward of those who
perform it. (45–46)
He is all the vedas, all sacrifices, and the reward of all sacrifices.
He, Lord Ravi, is everything.
He is all actions that are done throughout the worlds (37–48)
(van Nooten 2009, 1343)
Significant for our purposes is that the Sun’s supremacy is inextricable from
his support in Rāma fulfilling his royal duty of vanquishing his foe and
protecting the realm. This makes for an intriguing parallel of Yudhiṣṭhira
invoking the Goddess by intoning the Dur Stava MBh (4.5) (Coburn
1985, 267–71).
5.2 Paragons of preservation
Preservation is the essence of avatāra, the very impetus of Viṣṇu’s
incarnation. Jaimini’s question is indeed of profound significance to the
Hindu world. But it begs the deeper question of why the Vaiṣṇava avatāra
serves as the very inception of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a. While there are
several unabashedly Vai
ṣṇ
ava Purā
as, most notably the beloved
Bhāgavata, the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a is not considered among them. Why
then does this ultimately non-sectarian Sanskrit work pay homage to
Viṣṇu’s avatāric function at its outset? (for more on this, see Essence of
Avatar).
The Devī Māhātmya celebrates the essence of the Vaiṣṇava avatāra
(Balkaran 2017). Through the ambivalent function of the Great Goddess,
we understand the essence of the Vaiṣṇava avatāra: to shed blood where
needed in the name of compassionate protection. While the term is not used
in the text, the spirit of the term is. For example, the Goddess declares
“whenever there is trouble produced by demons,/Then taking on bodily
form, I will bring about the destruction of enemies” (DM 11.50–51)
(Coburn 1991, 78). Moreover, the Devī Māhātmya adopts explicit Vaiṣṇava
imagery throughout. In Episode I, the Goddess wakes Viṣṇu from his yogic
sleep at the end of age and helps him to slay the demons Madhu and
Kaiabha, who emerged from his ears. Also, in Episode III the gods praised
the Goddess for defeating their enemies in a hymn, the Nārāyai Stuti,
named for the “nārāyai namostute” refrain occupying sixteen consecutive
verses. She is hailed, in essence, as a feminine Nārāyaa, a She-Viṣṇu as it
were. Once she is praised by the gods, she prophesizes to return again and
again to rescue them from danger. The first of these promises specifically
incorporates Kṛṣṇaite imagery:
When the twenty-eighth yuga in the Vaivasvata Manu-interval has
arrived,
Two more great Asuras, also named Śumbha and Niśumbha, will arise.
Then born in the house of the cowherd Nanda, taking birth from the
womb of Yaśodā,
Dwelling on Vindhya mountain, I will then slay these two.
(Devī Māhātmya 11.37–38) (Coburn 1991, 77)
Vaiṣṇava imagery is celebrated not only in the text of the Devī Māhātmya,
but at the very seasonal juncture when it is ritually chanted across the Hindu
world. The autumnal Goddess festival:
pays homage to the cycles of dark and light upon which the cosmos is
founded, cycles expressed through the rhythms of nature, oscillating
between night and day, summer and winter, full and new moon. It
occurs at a time when light and darkness are equal on the earth. But,
unlike its vernal counterpart (in March, on the first day of Spring), the
autumnal equinox occurs when darkness overtakes light, when the days
grow darker and colder. This is the most inauspicious annual juncture,
the midnight of the gods, when Vishnu, the protector of the world,
slumbers, fast asleep since onset of the monsoon season. It is therefore
a time when even the gods are vulnerable, when the forces of darkness
are at the height of their power. Protection is therefore crucial when the
Sun’s light starts to wane; hence the festival marks the consecration of
kings sworn to protect and the invocation of the Great Goddess,
protectress bar none.
(Balkaran 2018b, 17)
The celebration of the Goddess is the celebration of a protective divine
force, the personal descent of which we hail avatāra.
While the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a may not be a “Vaiṣṇava” text proper,
one can argue it concerns itself with the essence of the Vaiṣṇava avatāra:
the cosmogonic function of preservation, particularly as pertains to the
social and moral order here on earth. Viṣṇu unequivocally stands for world
affirmation. This is unsurprising given his status as an original Vedic deity.
This is in stark contrast to Rudra-Śiva who struggles to be incorporated into
Vedic culture, often uninvited to Vedic sacrifices, most famously by his own
father-in-law Daka. This is not the case for Viṣṇu, to whom we find the
dedication of five g Vedic hymns. He represents the Vedic status quo,
while Rudra-Śiva represents the outlier. Such is the symbolism of this solar
deity, the centre around which society revolves. In the
g Veda, Viṣṇu is
the support of heaven and earth, specifically association with the Sun,
source of heat and light. Both the Vedic ethos and the function of Viṣṇu
favour prosperous preservation of life on earth. Conversely, in the Sūrya
Māhātmya section of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a, the Sun is praised by
Brahmā as one “Who hast the nature of Vishnu” (MkP 109.10). The solar
symbols of King and Goddess are therefore easily associable with Viṣṇu.
I’ve demonstrated elsewhere the intrinsic centrality of sovereignty as an
underlying theme of the Devī Māhātmya, showcased through the
architecture of the work (Balkaran 2019, 88–123), along with the
interdependence of Goddess and King, paragon of prav
tti dharma, arguing
that the Goddess of our text not only safeguards individual kings, she
safeguards their very ideology, exalting it above and beyond the merits of
ascetic idealism. Hence, the profound interconnectedness between the
mythologies of the Sun and Goddess in the MkP demonstrated in this work.
The discussion at hand unites this solar symbolism that implicating
Goddess, Sun and King in light of their cosmogonic function of
preservation, upon which existence depends.
The autumnal festival to the Goddess marks a time when protection is
required, in social and spiritual orders alike, such that it is the time of year
bar none for royal consecration. C.J. Fuller succinctly fleshes out the
connection between: 1) the timing of the festival; 2) the invocation of the
Goddess; and 3) the consecration of Hindu kings. He does so by drawing on
two mythological traditions, one (mainly) Northern, the other (mainly)
Southern. Both of these mythologize the astronomical passage through the
seasons. Fullers elucidation occur in the “The Navaratri Festival” section
(Fuller 2004, 108–11) of his “Rituals of Kingship” chapter (Fuller 2004,
106–27) where he explains that in the Northern tradition, Vishnu, the
protector of the cosmos, is said to slumber for four months, starting with the
onset of monsoon season. Naturally, “when the great god who preserves the
world withdraws from it for four months, a time of danger is heralded,
when demons and other malevolent forces can become more active” (Fuller
2004, 110). Other deities are often said to slumber alongside him, “thus
exacerbating the world’s vulnerability [which] is consistent with the notion
that Mahiāsura and his demon army are able to gather strength and
overthrow the gods approximately one month before Vishnu reawakens”
(Fuller 2004, 110). Similarly, in the (mainly) Southern mythological
tradition, “Navaratri occurs close to the autumnal equinox, the gods’
midnight and middle of the dark half of the year” (Fuller 2004, 111).
Therefore, according to both traditions, Navaratri occurs at a time:
when the gods are inactive or weakened and the demons at the height
of their power. But from this reversal of order and good fortune finally
comes Durga’s victory, and out of the chaos engendered by the demons
a new universal order, presided over by the gods under their king, is
created and established. The goddess’ slaying of the buffalo-demon
signals the end of demonic supremacy. In this glorious victory and its
aftermath, the recreation of a new kingly order, Hindu monarchs
participate by celebrating royal Navaratri.
(Fuller 2004, 111)
Hence, the Nine Nights festival is the royal festival, re-energizing the earthy
office of protection at an annual juncture so dark (both literally and
figuratively), that the gods themselves are left vulnerable to the forces of
darkness.
That the Sun has been invoked both explicitly and implicitly as a
protective force throughout the history of Indian religions is hardly
surprising. In addition to the hymns of the
g Veda appealing to him for
protection, the fact that the Sun fathers the Vedic divine healers, the Aśvin
twins, seems to corroborate this motif. His penchant for preservation is
evident even in his epic and Purāic narrative characterization: he protects
his sons Yama (modifying Chāyā’s curse to save his foot) and Kara; he
protects the ṇḍavas and their entourage, nourishing them during their
lengthy forest exile; he protects and empowers Rāma during his cataclysmic
battle with Rāvaa. Moreover, he fathers additional protective forces in
their own right in the epic and Purāic literature: Sugrīva (who supports
Rāma in his mission), Manu Vaivasvata (the current Manu), and Manu
Sāvari (the next Manu).
The DM commences as a means of elucidating the ascension of the next
Manu, who shall attain his reign at the end of this age and the
commencement of the next. Mārkaṇḍeya inaugurates the DM proper thus:
“Sāvari, the son of the Sun, will become Lord of the next Age./Hear as I
relay his rise at length” (DM 1.1) (Balkaran 2020). In like fashion,
Mārkaṇḍeya concludes the DM by declaring: “Thus receiving a boon from
the Goddess, Suratha, best of rulers,/Will receive another birth from the
Sun, and/Will become Sāvari, Manu of the next Age” (DM 13.18)
(Balkaran 2020). The Goddess here becomes as if an afterthought. In light
of the DM’s intrinsic frame narrative, the exploits of the Goddess are mere
means for King Suratha firstly to regain his earthly regime, and second, to
secure sovereignty over an entire age as the future Manu, Sāvari. The DM,
then, is the story of Sāvari, who is destined to be the future Manu of the
next age of this cycle of creation. The tales of the Goddess are therefore
part of the story of Sāvari, who is destined to be the future Manu of the
next age of this cycle of creation. But what is the significance of
transforming the glories of the Goddess to the making of a Manu in this
manner?
The most obvious answer, in my view, as to why the glories of the
Goddess are implicate in the making of a Manu is so as to underscore the
central tenant to Indian religious thought, common to the work of Goddess,
Sun and Manu alike: preservation. This theme is moreover personified in
the Indian king. Therefore, the DM’s outer intrinsic enframement
(connecting the DM to the fabric of the MkP’s MV discourse) wherein
Suratha is granted cosmic rulership as a Manu is commensurate with its
intrinsic inner enframement wherein Suratha’s earthly kingdom is restored
through his encounter with Sage Medhas. It is not by chance that the most
popular face of cosmic preservation (Viṣṇu) is associated with earthly
kings, since preservation is arguably their staunchest duty, if not the sine
qua non of the Indian king. Frame narratives are not haphazard entities:
they necessarily import significance to the tale they attempt to didactically
contextualize. Unsurprisingly, the work of preservation is squarely
shouldered by the Goddess throughout her exploits in the DM, and utterly
underscored by the cosmic impetus behind the relaying of these episodes,
for Suratha to secure a subsequent birth as the next Manu, who will be the
son of the Sun. The DM’s making of a Manu is therefore also the tale of
solar succession, which may be understood as the lineage of the function of
preservation within this realm.
The invocation of the Sun constitutes fitting symbolism for a narrative
preoccupied by themes of preservation; like the Goddess, both sovereign
and Sun are charged with supporting this realm. As Richard Lannoy writes:
With the consolidation of the universal empire under the Mauryas, the
idea of the chakravartin, or universal emperor, was introduced and
became the commonest ideal of kingship for orthodox Hinduism. The
chakravartin was a kind of temporal avatār, somewhat resembling the
Mahāyānist Buddhas and the avatars of Vishnu (viz. Krishna and
Rāma), born at auspicious times to proclaim the universal empire and
righteous government within the grand cosmic scheme.
(Lannoy 1971, 219)
In accounting for why both the Sūrya Māhātmya and Devī Māhātmya find
homes in the MkP, we need look no further than Mārkaṇḍeya’s core
teachings on prav
tti dharma. When we take the time to take at face value
the fabric of the MkP, we see great method to the interpolational madness:
the patchwork quilt has a story to tell. It depicts the glories of Goddess and
Sun, singing the praises of great Manus and kings, all of whom partake in
the MkP’s ideological ecosystem tilted towards prav
tti, preservation, and
the affirmation of life.
Works cited in this chapter
Balkaran, Raj. 2017. “The Essence of Avatāra: Probing Preservation in The Mārkaṇḍeya Purāa”.
Journal of Vaishnava Studies 26 (1): 25–36.
Balkaran, Raj. 2018a. “The Sarus’ Sorrow: Voicing Nonviolence in the Vālmīki Rāmāyaa”. Journal
of Vaishnava Studies 26 (2): 143–61.
Balkaran, Raj. 2018b. “The Splendor of the Sun: Brightening the Bridge between Mārkaṇḍeya
Purāa and Devī Māhātmya in Light of Navarātri Ritual Timing”. In Nine Nights of the Goddess:
The Navarātri Festival in South Asia, edited by Caleb Simmons, Hillary Rodrigues, and Moumita
Sen, 23–38. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.
Balkaran, Raj. 2019. The Goddess and The King in Indian Myth: Ring Composition, Royal Power,
and the Dharmic Double Helix. London: Routledge.
Balkaran, Raj. 2020. “A Tale of Two Boons: The Goddess and the Dharmic Double Helix.” In The
Purā
a Reader, edited by Deven Patel and Dheepa Sundaram. San Diego: Cognella Academic
Publishing.
Buitenen, J.A.B. van. 1973. Mahābhārata: Book 1: The Book of the Beginning. Vol. I. Chicago, IL:
University of Chicago Press.
Buitenen, J.A.B. van. 1975. Mahābhārata: Book 2: The Book of the Assembly Hall; Book 3: The
Book of the Forest. Vol. II. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.
Coburn, Thomas B. 1985. Devī Māhātmya: The Crystallization of the Goddess Tradition. Columbia,
Mo.: South Asia Books.
Coburn, Thomas B. 1991. Encountering the Goddess: A Translation of the Devī-Māhātmya and a
Study of Its Interpretation. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press.
Fuller, Christopher John, ed. 2004. The Camphor Flame: Popular Hinduism and Society in India.
Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Lannoy, Richard. 1971. The Speaking Tree: A Study of Indian Culture and Society. London: Oxford
University Press.
Nooten, Barend A van. 2009. The Rāmāya
a of Vālmīki an Epic of Ancient India. Volume VI:
Yuddhakā
ṇḍ
a. Edited by Robert P Goldman. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Appendix
The Sun myths of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a (Sanskrit
text)
I MkP 78–79: Sūrya–Sajñā–Chāyā Epsiode
Canto 77
Mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
mārtaṇḍasya raverbhāryā tanayā viúvakarmaa |
sajñā nāma mahābhāga tasyā bhānurajījanat || 77.1 ||
manu prakhyātayaúasamanekajñānapāragam |
vivasvata suto yasmāttasmādvaivasvatastu sa || 77.2 ||
sajñā ca raviā dṛṣṭā nimīlayati locane |
yatastata saroor’ka sajñā niṣṭhuramabravīt || 77.3 ||
mayi dṛṣṭe sadā yasmāt kurue netrasayamam |
tasmājjaniyase mūhe prajāsayamana yamam || 77.4 ||
Mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
tata sā capalā dṛṣṭi devī cakre bhayākulā |
vilolitadœa dṛṣṭvā punarāha ca tā ravi || 77.5 ||
yasmādvilolitā dṛṣṭirmayi dṛṣṭe tvayādhunā |
tasmādvilolā tanayā nadī tva prasaviyasi || 77.6 ||
Mārkaṇḍeya spoke
tatastasyāntu sajajñe bhartúāpena tena vai |
yamaúca yamunā ceya prakhyātā sumahānadī || 77.7 ||
sāpi sajñā ravesteja sehe du khena bhāminī |
asahantī ca sā tejaścintayāmāsa vai tadā || 77.8 ||
kikaromi kva gacchāmi kva gatāyāúca nirvti |
bhavenmama katha bhartā kopamarkaœca naiyati || 77.9 ||
iti sacintya bahudhā prajāpatisutā tadā |
bahu mene mahābhāgā pitsaúrayameva sā || 77.10 ||
tata pitghe gantu ktabuddhiryaúasvinī |
chāyāmayīmātmatanu nirmame dayitā rave || 77.11 ||
tāñcovāca tvayā veśmanyatra bhānoryathā mayā |
tathā samyagapatyeu vartitavya yathā ravau || 77.12 ||
pṛṣṭayāpi na vācyante tathaitadgamana mama |
saivāsmi nāma sajñeti vācyametatsadā vaca || 77.13 ||
Chāyasajñovāca
ākeúagrahaād devi! āúāpācca vacastava |
kariye kathayiyāmi vttantu úāpakaraāt || 77.14 ||
ityuktā sā tadā devī jagāma bhavana pitu |
dadarœa tatra tvaṣṭāra tapasā dhūtakalmaam || 77.15 ||
bahumānācca tenāpi pūjitā viúvakarmaā |
tasthau pitghe sā tu kañcitkālamaninditā || 77.16 ||
tatastā prāha cārvagī pitā nāticiroitām |
stutvā ca tanayā premabahumānapura saram || 77.17 ||
tvāntu me paśyato vatse dināni subahūnyapi |
muhūrtārdhasamāni syu kintu dharmo vilupyate || 77.18 ||
bāndhaveu cira vāso nārīā na yaœaskara |
manoratho bāndhavānā nāryā bhartghe sthiti || 77.19 ||
sā tva trailokyanāthena bhartrā sūryea sagatā |
pitgehe cira kāla vastu nārhasi putrike || 77.20 ||
sā tva bhartgha gaccha tuṣṭo ‘ha pūjitāsi me |
punarāgamana kārya darúanāya úubhe mama || 77.21 ||
Mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
ityuktā sā tadā pitrā tathetyuktvā ca sā mune |
sapūjayitvā pitara jagāmāthottarān kurūn || 77.22 ||
sūryatāpamanicchantī tejasastasya bibhyatī |
tapaúcacāra tatrāpi vaavārūpadhāriī || 77.23 ||
sajñeyamiti manvāno dvitīyāyāmahaspati |
janayāmāsa tanayau kanyāñcaikā manoramām || 77.24 ||
chāyāsajñā tvapatyeu yathā svevativatsalā |
tathā na sajñākanyāyā putrayoúcānvavartata || 77.25 ||
lālanādyupabhogeu viœeamanuvāsaram |
manustat kāntavānasya yamastasyā na cakame || 77.26 ||
anāya ca vai kopāt pādastena samudyata |
tasyā puna kāntimatā na tu dehe nipātita || 77.27 ||
tata úaúāpa ta kopācchāyāsajñā yama dvija |
kiñcit prasphuramāauṣṭhī vicalatpāipallavā || 77.28 ||
pitu patnīmamaryāda yanmā tarjayase padā |
bhuvi tasmādaya padāstavādyaiva patiyati || 77.29 ||
Mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
ityākarya yama úāpa mātrā datta bhayātura |
abhyetya pitara prāha praipātapura saram || 77.30 ||
Yama uvāca
tātaitanmahadāúcarya na dṛṣṭamiti kenacit |
mātā vātsalyamutsjya úāpa putre prayacchati || 77.31 ||
yathā manurmamācaṣṭe neya matā tathā mama |
viguevapi putreu na mātā viguā bhavet || 77.32 ||
Mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
yamasyaitadvaca úrutvā bhagavāstimirāpaha |
chāyāsajñā samāhūya papraccha kva gateti sā || 77.33 ||
sā cāha tanayā tvaṣṭuraha sajñā vibhāvaso |
patnī tava tvayāpatyānyetāni janitāni me || 77.34 ||
ittha vivasvata sā tu bahuúa pcchato yadā |
nācacake tata kruddho bhāsvāstā œaptumudyata || 77.35 ||
tata sā kathayāmāsa yathāvtta vivasvata |
viditārthaúca bhagavān jagāma tvaṣṭurālayam || 77.36 ||
tata sa pūjayāmāsa tadā trailokyapūjitam |
bhāsvanta parayā bhaktyā nijagehamupāgatam || 77.37 ||
sajñā pṛṣṭastadā tasmai kathayāmāsa viúvakt |
āgataiveha me veúma bhavata preiteti vai || 77.38 ||
divākara samādhistho vaavārūpadhāriīm |
tapaúcarantī dadœe uttareu kuruvatha || 77.39 ||
saumyamūrti úubhākāro mama bhartā bhavediti |
abhisandhiñca tapaso bubudhe ‘syā divākara || 77.40 ||
úātana tejaso me ‘dya kriyatāmiti bhāskara |
tañcāha viúvakarmāa sajñāyā pitara dvija || 77.41 ||
savatsarabhramestasya viúvakarmā karavestata |
tejasa úātanañcakre stūyamānaúca daivatai || 77.42 ||
Canto 78
Mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
tatasta tuṣṭuvurdevāstathā devarayo ravim |
vāgbhiroyamaœeasya trailokyasya samāgatā || 78.1 ||
Devā ūcu
namaste ksvarūpāya sāmarūpāya te nama |
yaju svarūparūpāya sāmnāndhāmavate nama || 78.2 ||
jñānaikadhāmabhūtāya nirdhūtatamase nama |
œuddhajyoti svarūpāya viúuddhāyāmalātmane || 78.3 ||
variṣṭhāya vareyāya parasmai paramātmane |
namo ‘khilajagadvyāpisvarūpāyātmamūrtaye || 78.4 ||
ida stotravara ramya œrotavya úraddhayā narai |
œiyo bhūtvā samādhistho dattvā deya gurorapi || 78.5 ||
na úūnyabhūtai œrotavyametattu saphala bhavet |
sarvakāraabhūtāya niṣṭhāyai jñānacetasām || 78.6 ||
nama sūryasvarūpāya prakāúātmasvarūpie |
bhāskarāya namastubhya tathā dinakte nama || 78.7 ||
úarvarīhetave caiva sandhyājyotsnākte nama |
tva sarvametad bhagavan jagadudbhramatā tvayā || 78.8 ||
bhramatyāviddhamakhila brahmāṇḍa sacarācaram |
tvadaœubhirida spṛṣṭa sarva sañjāyate úuci || 78.9 ||
kriyate tvatkarai sparúājjalādīnā pavitratā |
homadānādiko dharmo nopakārāya jāyate || 78.10 ||
tāvadyāvanna sayogi jagadetat tvadaœubhi |
caste sakalā hyetā yajūṃṣyetāni cānyata || 78.11 ||
sakalāni ca sāmāni nipatanti tvadagata |
ṛṅmayastva jagannātha! tvameva ca yajurmaya || 78.12 ||
yata sāmamayaúcaiva tato nātha! trayīmaya |
tvameva brahmao rūpa parañcāparameva ca || 78.13 ||
mūrtāmūrtastathā sūkma sthūlarūpastathā sthita |
nimeakāṣṭhādimaya kālarūpa kayātmaka |
prasīda svecchayā rūpa svateja œamana kuru || 78.14 ||
Mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
eva sastūyamānastu devairdevaribhistathā |
mumoca sva tadā tejastejasā rāúiravyaya || 78.15 ||
yattasya ṛṅmaya tejo bhavitā tena medinī |
yajurmayenāpi diva svarga sāmamaya rave || 78.16 ||
úātitāstejaso bhāgā ye tvaṣṭrā daúa pañca ca |
tvaṣṭraiva tena œarvasya kta úūla mahātmanā || 78.17 ||
cakra viṣṇorvasūnāñca œakavo ‘tha sudāruā |
pāvakasya tathā úakti úibikā dhanadasya ca || 78.18 ||
anyeāmasurārīāmastrāyugrāi yāni vai |
yakavidyādharāāñca tāni cakre sa viúvakt || 78.19 ||
tataœca oaœa bhāga bibharti bhagavān vibhu |
tatteja pañcadaúadhā úātita viœvakarmaā || 78.20 ||
tato ‘úvarūpadhgbhānuruttarānagamat kurūn |
tadœe tatra sajñāñca vaavārūpadhāriīm || 78.21 ||
sā ca dṛṣṭvā tamāyānta parapuso viœakayā |
jagāma samukha tasya pṛṣṭharakaatatparā || 78.22 ||
tataúca nāsikāyoga tayostatra sametayo |
nāsatyadastrau tanayāvaśvīvaktravinirgatau || 78.23 ||
retaso ‘nte ca revanta khagī carmo tanutradhk |
aúvārūha samudbhūto bāatūasamanvita || 78.24 ||
tata svarūpamatula darúayāmāsa bhānumān |
tasyaiā ca samālokya svarūpa mudamādade || 78.25 ||
svarūpadhāriīñcaimāmānināya nijāúrayam |
sajñā bhāryā prītimatī bhāskaro vāritaskara || 78.26 ||
tata pūrvasuto yo ‘syā so ‘bhūdvaivasvato manu |
dvitīyaúca yama úāpāddharmadṛṣṭirabhūt suta || 78.27 ||
kmayo māsamādāya pādato ‘sya mahītale |
patiyantīti úāpānta tasya cakre pitā svayam || 78.28 ||
dharmadṛṣṭiryataúcāsau samo mitre tathāhite |
tato niyoga ta yāmye cakāra timirāpaha || 78.29 ||
yamunā ca nadī jajñe kalindāntaravāhinī |
aœvinau devabhiajau ktau pitrā mahātmanā || 78.30 ||
guhyakādhipatitve ca revanto ‘pi niyojita |
cchāyāsajñāsutānāñca niyoga úruyatā mama || 78.31 ||
pūrvajasya manostulyaúchāyāsajñāsuto ‘graja |
tata sāvarikī sajñāmavāpa tanayo rave || 78.32 ||
bhaviyati manu so ‘pi balirindro yadā tadā |
úanaiúcaro grahāāñca madhye pitrā niyojita || 78.33 ||
tayosttīyā yā kanyā tapatī nāma sā kurum |
npāt savaraāt putramavāpa manujeœvaram || 78.34 ||
tasya vaivasvatasyāha mano saptamamantaram |
kathayāmi sutān bhūpānṛṣīn devān surādhipam || 78.35 ||
II MkP 101–110: “the Sūrya Māhātmya”
CANTO 101
krauṣṭukiruvāca |
bhagavankathitā samyaktvayā manvantarasthiti |
kramādvistaratastvatto mayā caivāvadhāritā || 1 ||
brahmādyamakhila vaśa bhūbhujā dvijasattama |
śrotu mamecchata samyagbhagavanprabravīhi me || 2 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca |
śṛṇu vatsa nā tvamaśeāā samudbhavam |
carita ca jaganmūlamādau ktvā prajāpatim || 3 ||
aya hi vaśo bhūpālairanekakratukartbhi |
sagrāmajidbhirdharmajñai śatasakhyairalakta || 4 ||
śrutvā caiā narendrāā caritāni mahātmanām |
utpattayaśca purua sarvapāpai pramucyate || 5 ||
manuryatra tathekvākuranarayo bhagīratha |
anye ca śataśo bhūpā samyakpālitabhūmaya || 6 ||
dharmajñā yajvina śūrā paramārthārthavedina ||
śrute tasminpumānvaśe pāpaughādvipramucyate || 7 ||
tadaya śrūyatā vaśo yato vaśā sahasraśa |
bhidyante manujendrāāmavarohā yathā vaāt || 8
brahmā prajāpati pūrva siskurvividhā prajā |
aguṣṭhāddakiādkamasjadvijasattama || 9 ||
vāmāguṣṭhācca tatpatnī jagatsūtikaro vibhu |
sasarja bhagavānbrahmā jagatā kāraa param || 10 ||
aditistasya dakasya kanyājāyata śobhanā |
tayā ca kaśyapo deva mārtaṇḍa samajījanat || 11 ||
brahmā svarūpa jagatāmaśeāā varapradam |
ādimadhyāntabhūta ca sargasthityantakarmasu || 12 ||
yato’khilamida yasminnaśea ca sthitā dvija |
yasvarūpa jagacceda sadevāsuramānuam || 13 ||
ya sarvabhūta sarvātmā paramātmā sanātana |
adityāmabhavadbhāsvānpūrvamārādhitastayā || 14 ||
krausukiruvāca |
bhagavañchrotumicchāmi yatsvarūpa vivasvata |
yatkāraa cādideva so’bhavatkaśyapātmaja || 15 ||
yathā cārādhito devyā so’dityā kaśyapena ca |
ārādhitena cokta yattena devena bhāsvatā || 16 ||
prabhāva cāvatīrasya yathāvanmunisattama |
bhavatā kathita samyakchotumicchāmyaśeata || 17 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
vispaṣṭā paramā vidyā jyotirbhā śāśvatī sphuā |
kaivalya jñānamāvirbhūprākāmya savideva ca || 18 ||
bodhaścāvagatiścaiva smtivijñānameva ca |
ityetānīha rūpāi tasyārūpasya bhāsvata || 19 ||
śrūyatā ca mahābhāga vistarādvadato mama |
yatpṛṣṭvānasi raverāvirbhāvo yathābhavat || 20 ||
niprabhe’sminnirāloke sarvatastamasāvte |
bhadaṇḍamabhūdekamakara kāraa param || 21 ||
tadvibheda tadantastho bhagavānprapitāmaha |
padmayoni svaya brahmā ya sraṣṭā jagatā prabhu || 22 ||
tanmukhādomiti mahānabhūcchabdo mahāmune |
tato bhūstu bhuvastasmāttataśca svaranantaram || 23 ||
etā vyāhtayastisra svarūpa tadvivasvata |
omityasmātsvarūpātu sūkmarūpa rave param || 24 ||
tato mahariti sthūla jana sthūlatara tata |
tatastapastata satyamiti mūrttāni saptadhā || 25 ||
sthitāni tasya rūpāi bhavanti na bhavanti ca |
svabhāvabhāvayorbhāva yato gacchanti saśayam || 26 ||
ādyanta yatpara sūkmamarūpa parama sthitam |
omityukta mayā vipra tatparabrahma tadvapu || 27 ||
iti śrīmārkaṇḍeyapurāe vaśānukīrtana
atha navanavatitamo’dhyāya || 98 ||
CANTO 102
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
tasmādaṇḍādvibhinnāttu brahmao’vyaktajanmana |
cobabhūvu prathama prathamādvadanānmune || 1 ||
japāpupanibhā sadyastejorūpā hyasahatā |
pthakpthagvibhinnāśca rajorūpavahāstata || 2 ||
yajūṁṣi dakiādvakrādaniruddhāni kānicit |
yādgvara tathā varānyasahatidharāi ca || 3 ||
paścima yadvibhorvaktra brahmaa parameṣṭhina |
āvirbhūtāni samāni tattacchandāsi tānyatha || 4 ||
atharvaāmaśea ca bhṛṅgāñjanacayaprabham |
yāvaddhorasvarūpa tadābhicārikaśāntikam || 5 ||
uttarātprakaībhūta vadanāttasya vedhasa |
sukhasattvatamaprāya saumyāsaumyasvarūpavat || 6 ||
co rajoguā sattva yajuā ca guā mune |
tamoguāni sāmāni tamasattvamatharvasu || 7 ||
etāni jvalamānāni tejasā’pratimena vai |
pthakpthagavasthānabhāñji pūrvamivābhavan || 8 ||
tatastadārādya yatteja omityuktvābhiśabkyate |
tasya svabhāvādyattejastatsamāvtya sasthitam || 9 ||
yathā yajurmaya tejastadvatsāmnā mahāmune |
ekatvamupayātāni pare tejasa saśraye || 10 ||
śāntika pauṣṭika caiva tathā caivābhicārikam |
gādiu laya brahmatritaya trivathāgamat || 11 ||
tato viśvamida sadyastamonāśātsunirmalam |
vibhāvanīya viprare tiryagūrdhvamadhastathā || 12 ||
tatastanmaṇḍalībhūta chāndasa teja uttamam |
parea tejasā brahmannekatvamupagamya tat || 13 ||
ādityasajñāmagamadādāveva yato’bhavat |
viśvasyāsasya mahābhāga kāraa cāvyayātmakam || 14 ||
prātarmadhyandine caiva tathā caivāparāhike |
trayī tapati sā kāle gyajusāmasajñitā || 15 ||
castapanti pūrvāhna madhyāhne ca yajūṁṣi vai |
sāmāni cāparāhe vai tapanti munisattama || 16 ||
śāntikamku pūrvāhla yaju:veva ca pauṣṭikam |
vinyasta sāmni sāyāhne hyābhicārikamantata || 17 ||
madhyandine’parāhe ca same caivābhicārikam |
aparāhe pitṛṇā tu sāmnā kāryāi tāni vai || 18 ||
visṛṣṭau ṛḍjhayo brahmā sthitau viṣṇuryajurmaya |
rudra sāmamayo’nte ca tasmāttasyāśucirdhvani || 19 ||
and tadeva bhagavānbhāsvānvedātmā vedasasthita |
vedavidyātmakaścaiva para purua ucyate || 20 ||
sargasthityantahetuśca raja sattvādikānguān |
āśritya brahmaviṣṇvādisajñāmabhyeti śāśvata || 21 ||
devai sadeya sa tu vedamūrti
ramūrtirādyo’khilamartyamūrti |
viśvāśraya jyotiravedyadharmā
vedāntagamya parama pareśa || 22 ||
iti śrīmārkaṇḍeyapurāe mārtaṇḍamāhātmye
navanavatitamo’dhyāya || 99 ||
CANTO 103
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
tasya santāpyamāne tu tejasomadhasyathā |
sisakuścintayāmāsa padmayoni pitāmaha || 1 ||
sṛṣṭi ktāpi me nāśa prayāsyatyabhitejasā |
bhāsvata sṛṣṭisahārasthitihetormahātmana || 2 ||
aprāā prāina sarva āpa śuyanti tejsā|
na cāmbhasā vinā sṛṣṭiviśvasyāsya bhaviyati || 3 ||
iti sañcintya bhagavānstotra bhagavato rave |
cakāra tanmaye bhūtvā brahmā lokapitāmaha || 4 ||
brahmovāca |
namasye yanmaya sarvametatsarvamaya ya |
viśvamūrti para jyotiryattaddhyāyanti yogina || 5 ||
ya ṛṅgayo yo yajuā nidhāna sāmnā ca yo yoniracintyaśakti |
trayīmaya sthūlatayārdhamātrā parasvarūpo guapārayogya || 6 ||
tvā sarvahetu parama ca vedya |
mādya para jyotiravedyarūpam |
sthūla ca devātmatayā namaste |
bhāsvantamādya parama parebhya || 7 ||
sṛṣṭi karomi yadaha tava śaktirādyā tatprerito
jalamahīpavanāgnirūpām |
taddevatādiviayā praavādyaśeā nātmecchayā sthitilayāvapi
tadvadeva || 8 ||
vahnistvameva jalaśoaata pthivyā |
sṛṣṭi karoi jagatā ca tathādya pākam |
vyāpī tvameva bhagavanagaganasvarūpa |
tva pañcadhā jagadida paripāsi viśvam || 9 ||
yajñairyajanti paramātmavido bhavanta
viṣṇusvarūpamakhileṣṭimaya vivasvan |
dhyāyanti cāpi yatayo niyatātmacittā sarveśvara
paramamātmavimuktikāmā || 10 ||
devarūpāya yajñarūpāya te nama |
parabrahmasvarūpāya cintyamānāya yogibhi || 11 ||
upasahara tejo yattejasa sahatistava |
sṛṣṭervidhātāya vibho sṛṣṭau cāha samudyata || 12 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
ityeva sastuto bhāsvānbrahmaā sargakartṛṇā |
upasahtavāsteja para svalpamadhārayat || 13 ||
cakāra ca tata sṛṣṭi jagata padmasambhava |
tathā teu mahābhāga pūrvakalpāntareu vai || 14 ||
devāsurādonmatyaśca paśvādīnvkavīrudha |
sasarja pūrvavadbrahmā narakāśca mahāmune || 15 ||
iti śrīmārkaṇḍeyapurāe ādityastavo nāma
śatatamo’dhyāya || 100 ||
athaikādhikaśatatamo’dhyāya
CANTO 104
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
sṛṣṭvā jagadida brahmā pravibhāgamathākarot |
varaśramasamudrādridvīpānā pūrvavadyathā || 1 ||
devadaityoragādīnā rūpasthānāni pūrvavat |
vedebhya eva bhagavānakarotkamahodbhava || 2 ||
brahmaastanayo yo’bhūmarīciriti viśruta |
kaśyapastasya putro’bhūtkāśyapo nāma nāmata || 3 ||
dakasya tanayā brahmastasya bhāryāstrayodaśa |
bahavastatsutāścāsandevadaityoragādaya || 4 ||
aditirjanayāmāsa daivātribhuvaneśvarān |
daityānditirdanuścogrāndānavānuruvikramān || 5 ||
garuāruau ca vinatā yakarakāsi vai khasā |
kadū suāva nāgāśca gandharvānsuuve muni || 6 ||
krodhāyā jajñire kulyā riṣṭāyāścāpsarogaā |
airāvatādīnmātagānirā ca suuve dvija || 7 ||
tāmrā ca suuve śyenīpramukhā kanyakā dvija |
yāsā prasūtā khagamā śyenabhāsaukādaya || 8 ||
ilāyā pādapā jātā pradhāyā yādasā gaā |
adityā yā samutpannā kaśyapasyeti santita || 9 ||
tasyāśca putradauhitrai pautradauhitrakādibhi |
vyāptametajjagatsūtyā teā tāsā ca vai mune || 10 ||
teā kaśyapaputrāā pradhānā devatāgaā |
sāttvikā rājasāstvete tāmasāśca mune gaā || 11 ||
devānyajñabhujasake tathā tribhuvaneśvarān |
brahmā brahmavidā śreṣṭha parameṣṭhī prajāpati || 12 ||
tānabādhanta sahitā sapatnā daityadānavā |
rākasāśca tathā yuddha teāmāsītsudāruam || 13 ||
divya nirāktānputrāndaiteyairdānavaistathā |
jayinaśābhavanvipna balino daityadānavā || 14 ||
tata nirāktānputrāndaiteyairdānavaistathā |
hatatribhuvanāndṛṣṭvā hyaditirmunisattama || 15 ||
ācchinnayajñabhāgāśca śucā saitā bhśam |
ārādhanāya savitu para yatna pracakrame || 16 ||
ekāgrā niyatāhārā para niyamamāsthitā |
taṣṭāva tejasa rāśi gaganastha divākaram || 17 ||
aditiruvāca
namastubhya parā sūk sauvarī bibhrate tanum |
dhāma dhāmavatāmīśa dhāmnāmādhāra śāśvata || 18 ||
jagatāmupakārāya tathāpastava gopate |
ādadānasya yadūpa tīvra tasmai namāmyaham || 19 ||
grahītumaṣṭamāsena kālenendumaya rasam |
bibhratastava sadūpamatitotra natāsmi tat || 20 ||
tameva muñcata:sarva rasa vai varaāya yat |
rūpamāpyāyaka bhāsvastasmai medhāya te nama || 21 ||
vāryutsargavinipannamaśea cauadhīgaam |
pākāya tava yadūpa bhāskara ta namāmyaham || 22 ||
yacca rūpa tavātīta himotsargādiśītalam |
tatkālasasyapoāya tarae tasya te nama || 23 ||
nātitīvra ca yadūpa nātiśīta ca yattava |
vasantata rave saumya tasmai deva namo nama || 24 ||
āpyāyanamaśeāā devānā ca tathāparam |
pitṛṇā ca namastasmai sasyānā pākahetave || 25 ||
yadūpa jīvanāyaika vīrudhāmamtātmakam |
pīyate devapitbhistasmai somātmane nama || 26 ||
āpyāyadāharūpābhyā rūpa viśvamaya tava |
sametamagnīomābhyā namastasmai guātmane || 27 ||
yadūpamgyuju sāmnāmaikyena tapate tava |
viśvametatrayīsajña namastasmai vibhāvaso || 28 ||
yattu tasmātpara rūpamomityuktvābhiśabditam |
asthūlānantamamala namastasmai sadātmane || 29 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
eva sa niyatā devī cakre stotramaharniśam |
nirāhārā vivasvantamārirādhayiurmune || 30 ||
tata kālena mahatā bhagavāstapano’mbare |
pratyakatāmagādasyā dākāyayā dvijottama || 31 ||
sā dadarśa mahākūa tejaso’mbarasaśritam |
jagāda me prasīdeti na tvā paśyāmi gopate || 32 ||
yathā dṛṣṭavatī pūrvamambarastha sudurdśam |
nirāhārā vivasvanta tapanta tadanantaram || 33 ||
saghāta tejasā tadvadiha paśyāmi bhūtale |
prasāda kuru paśyeya yadūpa te divākara |
bhaktānukampaka vibho bhaktāha pāhi me sutān || 34 ||
tva dhātā visjasi viśvametatva pāsi sthitikaraāya sapravtta |
tvayyante layamakhila prayāti tattva tvatto’nyā na hi gatirasti
sarvaloke || 35 ||
tva brahmā harirajasajñitastvamindro
vitteśa pitpatirappati samīra |
somo’gnirgaganapatirmahīdharo’bdhi |
ki stavya tava sakalātmarūpadhāmna || 36 ||
yajñeśa vāmanudinamātmakarmasaktā
stunvanto vividhapadaidvijā yajanti |
dhyāyanto viniyatacetaso bhavanta |
yogasthā paramapada prayānti maryā || 37 ||
tapasi pacasi viśva pāsi bhasmīkaroi
prakaayasi mayūkhaihadayasyambugarbha |
sjasi kamalajanmā pālayasyacyutākhya
kapayasi ca yugānte rudrarūpastvameka || 38 ||
iti śrīmārkaṇḍeyapurāe
divākarastutirnāmaikādhikaśatatamo’dhyāya || 101 ||
CANTO 105
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
tata svatejasastasmādāvirbhūto vibhāvasu |
adśyata tadādityastaptatāmropamaprabha || 1 ||
atha tā praatā devī tasya sadarśanānmune |
prāha bhāsvanvṛṇuveṣṭavara matto yamicchasi || 2 ||
praatā śirasā sā ca jānupīitamedinī |
pratyuvāca vivasvanta varada samupasthitam || 3 ||
deva prasīda putrāā hta tribhuvana mama |
yajñabhāgāśca daityaiśca dānavaiśca balādhikai || 4 ||
tannimitta prasāda tva kuruva mama gopate |
aśena teā bhrāttva gatvā nāśaya tadripūn || 5 ||
yathā me tanayā bhūyo yajñabhāgabhuja prabho |
bhaveyuradhipāścaiva trailokyasya divākara || 6 ||
tathānukampā putrāā suprasanno rave mama |
kuru prapannārtihara sthitikartā tvamucyase || 7 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
tatastāmāha bhagavānbhāskaro vāritaskara |
praatāmaditi vipra prasādasumukho vibhu || 8 ||
sahasrāśena te garbhe sambhūyāhamaśeata |
tvatputraśatrūnadite nāśayāmyāśu nirvta || 9 ||
ityuktvā bhagavānbhāsvānantardhānamupāgamat |
nivttī sāpi tapasa satptākhilavāñchitā || 10 ||
tato raśmisahasrāttu sauumnākhyo rave kara |
viprāvatāra sacakre devamāturathodare || 11 ||
kcchucāndrāyaādīni sā ca cakre samāhitā |
śuci sadhārayāmāsa divya garbhamiti dvija || 12 ||
tatastā kaśyapa prāha kiñcitkopaplutākaram |
ki mārayasi garbhāṇḍamiti nityopavāsinī || 13 ||
sā ca ta prāha garbhāṇḍametatpaśyeti kopanā |
na mārita vipakāā mtyave tadbhaviyati || 14 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
ityuktvā ta tadā garbhamutsasarja surārai |
jājvalyamāna tejobhi patyurvacanakopitā || 15 ||
ta dṛṣṭvā kaśyapo garbhamudyadbhāskaravarcasam |
tuṣṭāva praato bhūtvā gbhirādyābhirādarāt || 16 ||
sastūyamāna sa tadā garbhāṇḍātprakao’bhavat |
padmapatrasavarābhastejasā vyāptadimukha || 17 ||
athāntarikādābhāya kaśyapa munisattamam |
satoyameghagambhīravāguvācāśarīriī || 18 ||
mārita te yata proktametadaṇḍa tvayā mune |
tasmānmune sutaste’ya mārtaṇḍākhyo bhaviyati || 19 ||
sūryādhikāra ca vibhurjagatyea kariyati |
haniyatyasurāścāya yajñabhāgaharānarīn || 20 ||
devā niśamyeti vaco gaganātsamupāgaman |
praharamatula yātā dānavāśca hataujasa || 21 ||
tato yuddhāya daiteyānājuhāva śatakratu |
saha devairmudā yukto dānavāśca samabhyayu || 22 ||
teā yuddhabhamūddhora devānāmasurai saha |
śastrāstradīptisadīpta samastabhuvanāntaram || 23 ||
tasminyuddhe bhagavatā mārtaṇḍena nirīkitā |
tejasā dahyamānāste bhasmībhūtā mahāsurā || 24 ||
tata praharamatula prāptā sarve divaukasa |
tuṣṭuvustejasā yoni mārtaṇḍamaditi tathā || 25 ||
svādhikārāstathā prāptā yajñabhagāśca pūrvavat |
bhagavānapi mārtaṇḍa svādhikāramathākarot || 26 ||
kadambapupavaddhāsvānadhaścau ca raśmibhi |
vttāgnipiṇḍasadśo dadhye nātispharapu || 27 ||
CANTO 106
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
atha tasmai dadau kanyā sajñā nāma vivasvate |
prasādya praato bhūtvā viśvakarmā prajāpati || 1 ||
vaivasvatastu sambhūto manustasyā vivasvata |
pūrvameva tathākhyāta tatsvarūpa viśeata || 2 ||
trīyapatyānyasau tasyā janayāmāsa gopati |
dvau putrau sumahābhāgau kanyā ca yamunā mune || 3 ||
manurvaivasvato jyeṣṭha śrāddhadeva prajāpati |
tato yamo yamī caiva yamalau sambabhūvatu || 4 ||
yattejo’bhyadhika tasya mārtaṇḍasya vivasvata |
tenātitāpayāmāsa trīllokānsacarācarān || 5 ||
golākāra tu tadṛṣṭvā sajñārūpa vivasvata |
asahantī mahatteja svā chāyā prekya sā’bravīt || 6 ||
sajñovāca
aha yāsyāmi bhadra te svameva bhavana pitu |
nirvikāra tvayāpyatra stheya macchāsanācchubhe || 7 ||
imau ca bālakau mahya kanyā ca varavarinī |
sambhāvyau naiva cākhyeyamida bhagavate tvayā || 8 ||
chāyovāca
ākeśagrahaāddevi āśapannaiva karhicit |
ākhyāsyāmi mata tubhya gamyatā yatra vāñchitam || 9 ||
ityuktā chāyayā sajñā jagāma pitmandiram |
tatrāvasatpitegehe kañcitkāla śubhekaā || 10 ||
bhartu samīpa yāhīti pitroktā sā puna puna |
agacchadvaavā bhūtvā kurūnvipnottarāstata || 11 ||
tatra tepe tapa sādhvī nirāhārā mahāmune |
pitu samīpa yātāyā sajñāyā vākyatatparā || 12 ||
tadūpadhāriī chāyā bhāskara samupasthitā |
tasyā ca bhagavānsūrya sajñeyamiti cintayan || 13 ||
tathaiva janayāmāsa dvau sutau kanyakā tathā |
pūrvajasya manostulya sāvaristena so’bhavat || 14 ||
yastayo prathama jāta putrayordvijasattama |
dvitīyo yo’bhavaccānya sa graho’bhūcchanaiśvara || 15 ||
kanyābhūttapatī yā tā vanne savarao npa |
sajñā tu pārthivī teāmātmajānā yathā’karot || 16 ||
snehānna pūrvajātānā tathā ktavatī satī |
manustatkāntavāstasya yamaścāsyā na cakame || 17 ||
bahuśo yācyamānastu pitu patnayā sudukhita |
sa vai kopācca bālyācca bhāvino’rthasya vai balāt || 18
padā santarjayāmāsa chāyāsajñā yamo mune |
tata śaśāpa ca yama sajñā sāmariī bhśam || 19 ||
chāyovāca padā tarjayase yasmātpitbhā garīyasīm |
tasmāttavaiva caraa patiyati na saśaya || 20 ||
yamastu tena śāpena bhśaitamānasa |
manunā saha dharmātmā sarva pitre nyavedayat || 21 ||
yama uvāca
snehena tulyamasmāsu mātā deva na vartate |
visjya jyāyaso’pyasmānkanīyāsau bubhūrati || 22 ||
tasyā mayodyata pādo na tu dehe nipātita |
bālyādvā yadi vā mohāttadbhavānkantumarhati || 23 ||
śapto’ha tāta kopena jananyā tanayo yata |
tato na manye jananīmimā vai tapato vara || 24 ||
viguevapi putreu na mātā viguā pita |
pādaste patatā putra kathametatpravakyati || 25 ||
tava prasādāccarao na patedbhagavanyathā |
mātśāpādaya me’dya tathā cintaya gopate || 26 ||
raviruvāca
asaśayamida putra bhaviyatyatra kāraam |
yena tvāmāviśatkrodho dharmajña satyavādinam || 27 ||
sarveāmeva śāpānā pratighāto hi vidyate |
na tu mātrābhiśaptānā kvacicchāpanivartanam || 28 ||
na śakyametanmithyā tu kartu māturvacastava |
kiñcittava vidhāsyāmi putrasnehādanugraham || 29 ||
kmayo māsamādāya prayāsyanti mahītalam |
kta tasyā vaca satya tva ca trāto bhaviyasi || 30 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
ādityastvabravīcchāyā kimartha tanayeu va |
tulyevayadhika sneha ekatra kriyate tvayā || 31 ||
nūna naiā tva jananī sajñā kāpi tvamāgatā |
viguevapyeu katha mātā śapetsutam || 32 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
sā tatpariharantī ca nācacake vivasvata |
sa cātmāna samādhāya yuktastattvamapaśyata || 33 ||
ta śaptumudyata dṛṣṭvā chāyāsajñā divaspatim |
bhayena kapitā brahmānyathāvtta nyavedayat || 34 ||
vivasvāstu tata kruddha śrutvā śvaśuramabhyagāt |
sa cāpi ta tathānyāmarcayitvā divākaram |
nirdadhukāma roea sāntvayāmāsa suvrata || 35 ||
tavātitejasā vyāptamida rūpa sudusaham |
asahantī tata sajñā vane carati vai tapa || 36 ||
drakyate tā bhavānadya svabhāryā śubhacāriīm |
rūpārtha bhavato’raye carantī samuhattapa || 37 ||
smta me brahmao vākya yadi te deva rocate |
rūpa nivartayāmyetattava kānta divaspate || 38 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
yato hi bhāsvato rūpa prāgāsītparimaṇḍalam |
tatastatheti ta prāha tvaṣṭāra bhagavānvi || 39 ||
viśvakarmā tvanujñāta śākadvīpe vivasvata |
bhramimāropya tatteja śātanāyopacakrame || 40 ||
bhramatā’śeajagatā nābhibhūtena bhāsvatā |
samudrādrivanopetā sā ruroha mahī nabha || 41 ||
gagana cākhila brahmansacandragrahatārakam |
adhogata mahābhāga babhūvākiptamākulam || 42 ||
vikiptasalilā sarve babhūvuśca tathābdhita |
vyābhidyanta mahāśailā śīrasānunibandhanā || 43 ||
dhuvādhārāyaśeāi dhiṣṇyāni munisattama |
truyadraśminibandhāni hyadho jagmu sahasraśa || 44 ||
vegabhramaasajāta vāyukiptā samantata |
vyaśīryanta mahāmeghā ghorarāvavirāvia || 45 ||
bhāsvad bhramaavibhrānta bhūmyākāśarasātalam |
jagādākulamatyartha tadāsīnmunisattama || 46 ||
trailokye sakale vipra bhramamāe suraraya |
devāśca brahmaā sārddha bhāsvatanmabhituṣṭuvu || 47 ||
ādidevo’si devānā jñātametatsvarūpata |
svargasthityantakāleu tridhā bhedena tiṣṭhasi || 48 ||
svasti te’stu jagannātha dharmavarāhimākara |
juasva śānti lokānā devadeva divākara || 49 ||
iścāgatya ta deva likhyamāna yathā’stuvat |
jayadeva jagadvayāpiñjayāśeajagatpate || 50 ||
ṛṣayaśca tata sapta vasiṣṭhātripurogamā |
tuṣṭuvurvividhai stotrai svasti svastīti vādina || 51 ||
vedoktābhisthājhyābhirvālakhilyāśca tuṣṭuvu |
bhāsvantamgbhirādyābhirlikhyamāna mudāyutā || 52 ||
tva nātha mokiā moko dhyeyastva dhyāninā para |
tva gati sarvabhūtānā karmakāṇḍe’pi vartatām || 53 ||
śa prajābhyo’stu deveśa śanno’stu jagatāpate |
śanno’stu dvipade nitya śannaścāstu catupade || 54 ||
tato vidyādharagaā yakarākasapannagā |
ktāñjalipuā sarve śirobhi praatā ravim || 55 ||
ūcurevavidhā vāco mana śrotrasukhāvaha |
sahya bhavatu te tejo bhūtānā bhūtabhāvana || 56 ||
tato hāhā huhūścaiva nāradastumburustathā |
upagāyitumārabdhā gāndharva kuśalā ravim || 57 ||
ajamadhyamagāndhāragrāmatrayaviśāradā |
mūrchanābhiśca tānaiśca samprayoge sukhapradam || 58 ||
viśvācī ca ghtācī ca urvaśyatha tilottamā |
menakā sahajanyā ca rambhā cāpsarasā varā || 59 ||
nanturjagatāmośe likhyamāne vibhāvasau |
jñānabhāvavilāsāhyānkurvanto’bhinayānbahūn || 60 ||
prāvādyanta tatastatra vedhuvīādijharjharā |
paavā: pukarāścaiva mdagā paahānakā: || 61 ||
devadundubhaya śakā śataśo’tha sahasraśa |
gāyadbhiścaiva gāndharva ntyadbhiścāpsarogaai || 62 ||
tūryavāditraghoaiśca sarva kolāhalīktam |
tata ktāñjalipuā bhaktinamrātmamūrtaya || 63 ||
likhyamāna sahasrāśu praemu sarvadevatā |
tata: kolāhale tasminsarvadevasamāgame |
tejasa: śātana cakre viśvakarmā śanai śanai || 64 ||
iti himajalagharmakālaheto
herakamalāsanaviṣṇusastutasya |
tanuparilikhana niśamya bhāno |
vrajati divākaralokamāyuo’nte || 65 ||
iti śrīmārkaṇḍeyapurāe bhānutanulekhane
tryadhikaśatatamo’dhyāya || 103 ||
CANTO 107
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
likhyamāne tato bhānau viśvakarmā prajāpati |
ud bhūtapulaka stotramida cakre vivasvata: || 1 ||
vivasvate praatahitānukampine |
mahātmane samajavasaptasaptaye |
sutejase kamalakulāvabodhine
namastama paalapaāvapāine || 2 ||
pāvanātiśayapuyakarmae naikakāmaviayapradāyine |
bhāsvarānalamayūkhaśayine sarvalokahitakārie nama || 3 ||
ajāya lokatrayakāraāya bhūtātmane gopataye vṛṣāya |
namo mahākāruikottamāya sūryāya cakuprabhavālayāya || 4 ||
vivasvate jñānamte’ntarātmane
jagatpratiṣṭhāya jagaddhitaiie | svayambhuve lokasamastacakue
surottamāyāmitatejase nama || 5 ||
kaamudayācalamaulimai suraamahitahito jagata |
tvam mayūkhasahasravapurjagati vibhāsi tamāsi nudan || 6 ||
bhavatimirāsavapānamadādbhavati vilohitavigrahatā |
mihira vibhāsi yata sutarā tribhuvanabhāvanabhānikarai || 7 ||
rathamadhiruhya samāvayava cāruvikampitamururuciram |
satatamakhinnahayairbhagavaścarasi jagaddhitāya vitatam || 8 ||
amtamayena rasena sama vibudhapitnapi tarpayase |
arigaasūdana tena tava praatimupetya likhāmi vapu || 9 ||
śukasamavarahayaprathita tava padapāsupavitratamam |
natajanavatsala mā praata tribhuvanapāvana pāhi rave || 10 ||
iti sakalajagatprasūtibhūta tribhuvanabhāvanadhāmahetumekam |
ravimakhilajagatpradīpabhūta tridaśavara praato’smi sarvadā tvām
|| 11 ||
iti śrīmārkaṇḍeyapurāe sūryastavana nāma
caturadhikaśatatamo’dhyāya || 104 ||
CANTO 108
Mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
eva sūryastava kurvanviśvakarmā divaspate |
tejasa oaśe bhāga maṇḍalasthamadhārayat || 1 ||
śātitaistejaso bhāgairdarśabhi pañcabhistathā |
atīvakānmitaccāru bhānorāsīttadā vapu || 2 ||
śātita cāsya yattejastena cakre vinirmitam |
viṣṇo śūla ca śarvasya śibikā dhanadasya ca || 3 ||
daṇḍa pretapate śaktirdevasenāpatestathā |
anyeā caiva devānāmāyudhāni sa viśvakt || 4 ||
cakāra tejasā bhānorbhāsurāyariśāntaye |
iti śātitatejā sa śuśubhe nātitejasā || 5 ||
vapurdadhāra mārtaṇḍa sarvāvayavaśobhanam |
sa dadarśa samādhistha: svā bhāryā vaavāktim || 6 ||
adhṛṣ sarvabhūtānā tapasā niyamena ca |
uttarāśca kurūngatvā bhūtvā’śvo bhānurāgamat || 7 ||
sā ca dṛṣṭvā tamāyānta parapuso viśakayā |
jagāma sammukhe tasya pṛṣṭharakaatatparā || 8 ||
tataśca nāsikāyoga tayostatra sametayo |
vaavāya ca tattejo nāsikābhyā vivasvata || 9 ||
devau tatra samutpannāvaśvinau bhiajā varau |
nāsatyadasrau tanayāvaśvivannādvinirgatau || 10 ||
mārtaṇḍasya sutāvetāvaśvarūpadharasya hi |
retaso’nte ca revanta khagī dhanvī tanutradh || 11 ||
aśvārūha samadbhūto bāatūasamanvita |
tata svarūpamamala darśayamāsa bhānumān || 12 ||
tasya śānta samālokya sā rūpa mudamādade |
svarūpadhāriī cemā sa nināya nijālayam || 13 ||
sajñā bhāryā prītimatī bhāskaro vāritaskara |
tata parvasato yo’syā so’bhūdvaivasvato manu || 14 ||
dvitīyāśca yama śāpāddharmadṛṣṭiranugrahāt |
yamastu tena śāpena bhśaitamānasa || 15 ||
dharmo’bhirocate yasmāddharmarājastata smta |
kmayo māsamādāya pādataste mahītalam || 16 ||
patiyantīti śāpānta tasya cakre pitā svayam |
dharmadṛṣṭiryataścāsau samo mitre tathā’hite || 17 ||
tato niyoge ta yāmye cakāra timirāpaha |
tasmai dadau pitā vipra bhagavlokapālatām || 18 ||
pitṛṇāmādhipatya ca parituṣṭo divākara ||
yamunā ca nadī cakre kalidāntaravāhinīm || 19 ||
aśvinau devabhiajau ktau pitrā mahātmanā |
guhyakādhipatitve ca revanto viniyojita || 20 ||
evamapyāha ca tato bhagavām llokabhāvita |
tvamapyaśealokasya pūjyo vatsa bhaviyasi || 21 ||
arayādimahādāvavairidasyubhayeu ca |
tvā smariyanti ye martyā mokyante te mahāpada || 22 ||
kema buddhi sukha rājyamārogya kīrtimunnatim |
narāā parituṣṭastva pūjita sampradāsyasi || 23 ||
chāyāsajñāsutaścāpi sāvari sumahāyaśā |
bhāvya so’nāgate kāle manu sāvariko’ṣṭama || 24 ||
merupṛṣṭhe tapo ghoramadyāpi carati prabhu |
bhrātā śanaiścarastasya graho’bhūcchāsanādrave || 25 ||
yavīyasī tu yā kanyā’’dityasyābhūdvijottama |
abhavatsā sariccheṣṭhā tapatī lokapāvanī || 26 ||
yastu jyeṣṭho mahābhāga saryo yasyeha sāmpratam |
vistara tasya vakyāmi manovaivasvatasya ha || 27 ||
ida yo janma devānā śṛṇuyāddhā paheta vā ||
vivasvatastanūjānā ravermāhātmyameva ca || 28 ||
āpada prāpya mucyeta prāpnuyācca mahāyaśa |
ahorātrakta pāpametacchamayate śrutam |
māhātymādidevasya mārtaṇḍasya mahātmana || 29 ||
iti śrīmārkaṇḍeyapurāe ravermāhātmyavarana nāma
pādhikaśatatamo’dhyāya || 105 ||
CANTO 109
krauṣṭukiruvāca
bhagavankathita samyagbhāno santatisambhava |
māhātmyamādidevasya svarūpa jhātivistarāt || 1 ||
bhūyo’pi bhāsvata samyamāhātmya munisattama |
śrotumicchāmyaha tanme prasanno vaktumarhasi || 2 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
śrūyatāmādidevasya māhātmya kathayāmi te |
vivasvato yaccakāra pūrvamārādhito janai || 3 ||
damasya putro vikhyāto rājābhūdrājyavardhana |
sa samyakpālana cakre pthivyā pthivīpati || 4 ||
dharmata pālyamāna tu tena rāṣṭra mahātmanā |
vavdhe’nudina vipra janena ca dhanena ca || 5 ||
hṛṣṭapuṣṭamatīvāsīttasminnājanyaśeata |
nirbhaya sakalalo paurajānapado jana || 6 ||
nopasargo na ca vyādhirna ca vyālodbhava bhayam |
na cāvṛṣṭibhaya tatra damaputre mahīpatau || 7 ||
sa īje ca mahāyajñairdadau dānāni cārthinām |
sudharmasyāvirodhena bubhuje viayānapi || 8 ||
tasyaiva kurvato rājya samyakpālayata prajā |
sapta varasahasrāi jagmurekamaharyathā || 9 ||
vidūrathasya tanayā dākiātyasya bhūbhta |
tasya patnī babhūvātha māninī nāma māninī || 10 ||
kadācittasya sā subhu śiraso’bhyañjanādtā |
paśyato rājalokasya mumocāśrūi māninī || 11 ||
tadaśrubindavo gāne yadā tasya mahīpate |
tadā vīkyāśruvadanā tāmapcchata māninīm || 12 ||
niśabdamaśrumokea rudantī vilokya vai |
kimetaditi papraccha māninī rājyavardhana || 13 ||
pṛṣṭā sā tu tatastena bharnā prāha manasvinī |
na kiñciditi tā bhūya papraccha sa mahīpati || 14 ||
bahuśa pcchatastasya bhūbhta sā sumadhyamā |
(na kiñciditi hovāca sā bhūyo rājyavardhanam |
kimetaditi papraccha māninī pārthiva puna |
bahuśa preritā tena sā bharnā tatra bhāminī)
darśayāmāsa palita keśabhārāntarodbhavam || 15 ||
etatpaśyeti bhūpāla kimanyanmanyukāraam |
mamātimandabhāgyāyo jahāsātha npastata || 16 ||
sa vihasyāha tā patnī śṛṇvatā sarvabhūbhtām |
paurāā ca mahīpālā ye tatrāsansamāv || 17 ||
śokenāla viśālāki roditavya na te śubhe |
janmarddhipariāmādyā vikārā sarvajantuu || 18 ||
adhītā sakalā vedā iṣṭā yajñā sahasraśa |
datta dvijānā putrāśca samutpannā varānane || 19 ||
bhuktā bhogastvayā sārdha ye maryairatidurlabhā |
samyakca pālitā pthvī śaurya yuddhevanuṣṭhitam || 20 ||
mitre saheṣṭairhasita vihta ca vanāntare |
kimanyanna kta bhadre palitebhyo bibhei yat || 21 ||
bhavantu keśā pālitā valaya santu me śubhe |
śaithilyametu me kāya ktaktyo’smi mānini || 22 ||
mūrdhni yaddarśita bhadre bhavatyā palita mama |
cikitsāmeva tasyāha karomi vanasaśrayāt || 23 ||
bālye bālakriyāpūrva tadvatkaumārake ca yā |
yauvane cāpi yā yagyā vārddhake vanasaśrayā || 24 ||
eva matpūrvajairbhadre kta tvatpūrvajaiśca yat |
ato na te’śrupātasya kiñcitpaśyāmi kāraam || 25 ||
ala te manyunā bhadre nanvabhyudayakāri me |
darśana palitasyāsya mā rodīrniprayojanam || 26 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
tata praamya ta bhūpā paurāścaiva samīpagā |
sāmnā procurmahīpālā mahare rājyavardhanam || 27 ||
na roditavyamanayā tava patnyā narādhipa |
roditavyamihāsmābhirathavā sarvajantubhi || 28 ||
tva bravīi yathā nātha vanavāsāśrita vaca |
patanti tena na: prāā lālitānā tvayā npa || 29 ||
sarve yāsyāmahe bhūpa yadi yāti bhavānvanam ||
tato’śeakriyāhāni sarvapthvīnivāsinām || 30 ||
bhaviyati na sandehastvayi nātha vanāśrame |
sā ca dharmopaghātāya yadi tatpravimucyatām || 31 ||
sapta varasahasrāi tvayeya pālitā mahī |
tatsamuttha mahāpuyamālokaya narādhipa || 32 ||
vane vasanmahārāja tva kariyasi yattapa |
tanmahīpālanasyāsya kalā nārhanti oaśīm || 33 ||
rājovāca
sapta varasahasrāi mayeya pālitā mahī |
idānī vanavāsasya mama kālo’yamāgata || 34 ||
mamāpatyāni jātāni dṛṣṭā me’patyasantatī |
svalyairevamahobhirme hyantako na sahiyati || 35 ||
yadetatpalita mūrdhina tadvijānīta nāgarā |
dūtabhūtamanāryasya mtyoratyugrakarmaa || 36 ||
so’ha rājye suta ktvā bhogāstyaktvā vanāśraya |
tapastapsye samāyānti na yāvadyamasainikā || 37 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
tato yiyāsu sa vana daivajñānavanīpati |
putrarājyābhiekāya dinalagnānyapcchata || 38 ||
śrutvā ca te tu npatervaco vyākulacetasa |
dina lagna ca horāśca na vidu śāstradṛṣṭaya || 39
ūcuśca ta mahīpāla daivajñā bāyagadgadam |
jñānāni na praaṣṭāni śrutvaitatte vaco npa || 40 ||
tato’nyanagarebhyaśca bhtyai rāṣṭrebhya eva ca |
tatastasmācca nagarātprācuryeābhyupāgaman || 41 ||
samutpatya mahīpāla ta yiyāsu mune vanam |
prakampiśiraso bhūtvā procurbrahmaasattamā || 42 ||
prasīda pāhi no rājanpālitā sma yathā purā |
sīdiyatyakhilo lokastvayi bhūpa vanāśraye || 43 ||
tva kuruva tathā rājanyathā no sīdate jagat |
yāvajjīvāmahe vīra svalpakālamime vayam |
necchāmaśca bhavacchūnya draṣṭu sihāsana vibho || 44 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
ityeva taistathānyaiśca dvijai paurapura sarai |
bhūpairbhūtyairamātyaiśca rājā prokta puna puna || 45 ||
vanavāsavinirbandha nopasaharate yadā |
kamiyatyantako neti dadau sa ca tadottaram || 46 ||
tato’mātyāśca bhūpāśca pauravddhāstathā dvijā |
sametya mantrayāmāsu kimatra kriyatāmiti || 47 ||
teā mantrayatā vipra niścayo’yamajāyata ||
anurāgavatā tatra mahīpāle’tidhārmike || 48 ||
samyagdhyānaparā bhūtvā prārthayāma samāhitā |
tapasārādhya bhāsvatantamāyurasya mahīpate || 49 ||
tatraikaniścayā kārye kecigehe ca bhāskaram |
samyagaryopacārādyairupahārairapūjayan || 50 ||
apare maunino bhūtvā gjāpena tathāpare |
yajuāmatha sāmnā ca toayañcakrire ravim || 51 ||
apare ca nirāhārā nadīpulinaśāyina |
tapāsi caricchatobhāskarārādhana dvijā || 52 ||
agnihotraparāścānye ravisūktānyaharniśam |
jepustatrāpare tasthurbhāskare nyastadṛṣṭaya || 53 ||
ityevamatinirbandha bhāskarārādhana prati |
bahuprakāra cakruste ta ta vidhimupāśritā || 54 ||
tathā tu yatatā teā bhāskarārādhana prati |
sudāmā nāma gandharva upagamyedamabravīt || 55 ||
yadyārādhanamiṣṭha vo bhāskarasya dvijātaya |
tadetakriyatā yena bhānu prītimupaiyati || 56 ||
tasmād guruviśālākhya vana siddhanievitam |
kāmarūpe mahāśaile gamyatā tatra vai laghu || 57 ||
tasminnārādhana bhāno kriyatā susamāhite |
siddhaketra hita tatra sarvakāmānavāpsyatha || 58 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
iti te tadvaca śrutvā gatvā tatkānana dvijā |
dadśurbhāsvatastatra puyamāyatana śubham || 59 ||
tatra te niyatāhārā varā viprādayo dvija |
dhūpapupopahārāhyā pūjā cakruratandritā || 60 ||
pupānulepanādyaiśca dhūpagandhādikaistathā |
japahomānnadānādyai pūjana te samāhitā |
kurvantastuṣṭuvurbrahmanvivasvanta dvijātaya || 61 ||
brāhmaā ūcu
devadānavayakāā grahāā jyotiāmapi |
tejasābhyadhika deva vrajāma śaraa ravim || 62 ||
divi sthita ca deveśa dyotayanta samantata |
vasudhāmantarika ca vyāpnuvanta marīcibhi || 63 ||
āditya bhāskara bhānu savitāra divākaram |
āamaryamāa ca svarbhānu dīptadīdhitim || 64 ||
caturyugāntakālāgniduokya pralayāntagam |
yogīśvaramananta ca rakta pīta dīptadīdhitam || 65 ||
ṛṣīāmagnihotreu yajñadevevavasthitam |
vrajāma śaraa deva tajorāśi tamacyutam |
akara parama guhya mokadvāramanuttamam || 66 ||
chandobhiraśvarūpaiśca sakdyuktairvihagamam |
udayāstamane yukta sadā mero pradakie || 67 ||
anta ca ta caiva puyatīrtha pthagvidham ||
viśvasthiticintya ca prapannā sma prabhākaram || 68 ||
yo brahmā yo mahādevo yo viṣṇurya prajāpati |
vāyurākāśamāpaśca pthivīgirisāgarā || 69 ||
grahanakatracandrādyā vānaspatya dumauadham |
vyaktāvyakteu bhūteu dharmādharmapravartaka || 70 ||
brāhmī māheśvarī caiva vaiṣṇavī caiva te tanu |
tridhā yasya svarūpa tu bhānorbhāsvānprasīdatu || 71 ||
yasya sarvamayasyedamagabhūta jagatprabho |
sa na prasīdatā bhāsvāñjagatā yaśca jīvanam || 72 ||
yasyaikamakara rūpa prabhāmaṇḍaladurdśam |
dvitīyamaindava saumya sa no bhāsvānprasīdatu || 73 ||
tābhyā ca tasya rūpābhyāmida viśva vinirmitam ||
āgnīomamaya bhāsvānsa no deva prasīdatu || 74 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
ittha stutyā tadā bhaktyā samyakpūjāvidhānata |
tutoa bhagavānbhāsvastribhirmāsairdvijottama || 75 ||
tata sa maṇḍalādudyannijabimbasamaprabha |
avatīrya dadau tebhyo durdaśo darśana ravi || 76 ||
tataste spaṣṭarūpa ta savitāramaja janā |
pulakotkampino viprā bhaktinamrā praemire || 77 ||
namo namaste’stu sahasraraśme | sarvasya hetustvamaśeaketu |
pātā tvamīayo’khilayajñadhāma dhyeyastathā yogavidā prasīda ||
78 ||
iti śrīmārkaṇḍeya purāe bhānustavo nāma
ghaadhikaśatatamo’dhyāya || 106 ||
CANTO 110
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
tata prasanno bhagavānbhānarāhākhilāñjanān |
vriyatā yadabhipreta matta prāptu dvijādaya || 1 ||
tataste praipatyocurviprakatrādayo janā |
sasādhvasamaśītāśumavalokya para sthitam || 2 ||
prajā ūcu |
bhagavanyadi no bhaktyā prasannastimirāpaha || 3 ||
daśa varasahasrāi tato no jīvatā npa | nirāmayo jitārāti
sukośa sthirayauvana: || 4 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca tathetyuktvā janānbhāsvānadśyo’bhūnmahāmune |
te’pi labdhavarā hṛṣṭā samājagmurjaneśvaram || 5 ||
yathā vtta ca te tasmai narendrāya nyavedayan |
vara labdhvā sahasrāśo sakāśādakhila dvija || 6 ||
tacchutvā jahae tasya sā patnī māninī dvija |
(prahara parama yātā harod gatatanūruhā) |
sa ca rājā cira dathyau nāha kiñcicca ta janam || 7 ||
tata sā māninī bhūpa harāpūritamānasā |
diṣṭayā’’yuā mahīpāla varddhasvetyāha ta patima || 8 ||
tathā tayā mudā bhartā māninyātha sabhājita |
nāha kiñcinmahīpālaścintājaamānādvija || 9 ||
sā puna prāha bhartāra cintayānamadhomukham |
kasmānna haramabhyei paramābhyudaye npa || 10 ||
daśavarasahasrāi nīruja sthirayauvana |
bhāvī tvamadyaprabhti ki tathāpi na hṛṣyase || 11 ||
kintu tatkāraa brūhi yaccintākṛṣṭamānasa |
paramābhyudaye’pi tva samprāpte pthivīpate || 12 ||
rājovāca
kathamabhyudayo bhadre ki samājayase ca mām |
prāpto dukhasahasrāā ki sabhājanamiyate || 13 ||
daśavarasahasrāi jīviyāmyahamekaka |
na tva tava vipattau me kinna dukha bhaviyati || 14 ||
putrānpautrāprapautrāśca tathānyāniṣṭabāndhavān |
paśyato me mtāndukha kimalya hi bhaviyati || 15 ||
bhtyeu cātibhakteu mitravage tathā mte |
bhadre dukhamapāra me bhaviyati tu santatam || 16 ||
yairmadartha tapastapta kśairdhamanisantatai |
te mariyantyaha bhogī jīviyāmīti dhikkaram || 17 ||
seyamāpadvarārohe prāptā nābhyudayo mama |
katha vā manyese na tva yatsabhā jayase’dya mām || 18 ||
māninyuvāca
mahārāja yathātya tva tathaitannātra saśaya |
mayā paureśca doo’ya prītyā nālokitastava || 19 ||
eva gate’tra ki kārya naranātha vicintyatām |
nānyathā bhāvi yatprāha prasannau bhagavānvi || 20 ||
rājovāca
upakāra kta gairai prītyā bhtyaiśca yo mama |
katha bhokyāmyaha bhogāngatvā teāmaniktim || 21 ||
so’hamadyaprabhatyadri gatvā niyatamānasa |
(pauralokahitārtha ca toayiyāmi bhāskaram |
yathā paurā mama kte bāndhavaśca samantata |
ārādhayānāya deveśa tathāhamapi sāmpratam) |
tapastapsye nirāhāro bhānorārādhanodyata || 22 ||
daśavarasahasrāi yathāha sthirayauvana |
tasya prasādāddevasya jīviyāmi nirāmaya || 23 ||
tathā yadi prajā sarvā bhtyāstva ca sutāśca me |
putrā pautrā prapautrāśca suhdaśca varānane || 24 ||
jīvatyeta prasāda ca karoti bhagavānvi |
tato’ha bhavitā rājye bhokye bhogāstathā mudā || 25 ||
na cedeva karotyarkastadādrau tatra mānini |
tapastapsye nirāhāro yāvajjīvitasakaya || 26 ||
mārkaṇḍeya uvāca
ityuktā sā tadā tena tathaityāha narādhipam |
jagāma tena ca sama sā’pi ta dharaīdharam || 27 ||
sa tadāyatana gatvā bhāryayā saha pārthiva |
bhānorārādhana cakre śuśrūānirato dvija || 28 ||
nirāhārā kśā sā ca yathāsau pthivīpati |
tepe tapastathaivotra śītavātātapakamā || 29 ||
tasya pūjayato bhānu tapyataśca tapo mahat |
sāgre samvatsare yāte tata prīto divākara || 30 ||
samastabhtyapaurādiputrāā ca kte dvija |
dadau yathābhilaita vara dvijavarottama || 31 ||
labdhvā vara sa npati samabhyetyātmana puram |
cakāra mudito rājya prajā dharmea pālayan || 32 ||
īje yajñānsa ca bahundadau dānānyaharniśam |
māninyā sahito bhogānbubhuje ca sa dharmavit || 33 ||
daśa varasahasrāi putrapautrādibhi saha |
bhtyai pautrai pramudita so’bhavatsthirayauvana || 34 ||
vismayākṛṣṭāhdayo gāthāmetāmagāyata || 35 ||
bhānubhakteraho śaktiryadrājā rājyavarddhana |
āyuo varddhane jāta svajanasya tathātmana || 36 ||
iti te kathita vipra yatpṛṣṭo’ha tvayodita |
ādidevasya māhātmyamādityasya vivasvata || 37 ||
vipretadakhila śrutvā bhānormāhātmyamuttamam |
pahaśca mucyate pāpai saptarātraktairnara || 38 ||
arogī dhanavānāhya kule mahati dhīmatām |
jāyate ca mahāprājño yaścaiddhārayeddha || 39 ||
(yajate ca mahāyajñai samāptavaradakia |
śrutvā caritametaddhi samāna labhate phalam |
mantrāśca ye’trābhihitā bhāsvato munisattama |
japa pratyekameteā trisadhya pātakāpaha || 40 ||
samastametanmāhātmya yatra cāyatane rave |
pahyate tatra bhavānsānnidhya na vimuñcati || 41 ||
tasmādetattvayā brahmabhānormāhātyamuttamam |
dhārya manasi jāpya ca mahatpuyamabhīpsatā || 42 ||
suvarṛṅgīmatiśobhanāgī payasvinī pradadāti yo hi |
śṛṇoti caitatryahamātmavānnara
sama tayo puyaphala dvijāya || 43 ||
itiśrīmārkaṇḍeyapurāe bhānormāhātmyavarana nāma
saptādhikaśatatamo’dhyāya || 107 ||
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the Oriental Institute 41 (3–4): 203–12.
Taylor, McComas. 2008. “What Enables Canonical Literature to Function as ‘True’? The Case of the
Hindu Purāas”. International Journal of Hindu Studies 12 (3): 309–28.
Tilakasiri, J. 1971. “Imagery in Vedic Mythology”. Archív Orientální; Praha 39 (January): 76–83.
Warrier, Krishna. 1991. The Sāmānya Vedānta Upani
ads. Madras: The Adyar Library and Research
Centre.
Wilkins, W.J. 1900. “Hindu Mythology, Vedic and Puranic: Part I. The Vedic Deities: Chapter VI.
Sun or Light Deities”. In Hindu Mythology, Vedic and Puranic. Calcutta: London Missionary
Society.
Wilson, Horace Hayman. 1961. The Vi
ṣṇ
u Purā
a: A System of Hindu Mythology and Tradition.
Calcutta: Punthi Pustak.
Winternitz, Moriz. 1972a. A History of Indian Literature. Vol 1. New Delhi: Oriental Book.
Winternitz, Moriz. 1972b. A History of Indian Literature. Vol 2. New Delhi: Oriental Books.
Index
Page numbers in bold denote tables, those in italics denote figures.
Achaemenian invasion, of 6th–5th century B.C 22–23
Acyutya (Viṣṇu) 44
Aditi (mother of gods) 70; cāndrāyaa penance 45; effort to propitiate the Sun 43–44, 58; grant of
boon from the Sun 45, 58; hymns in praise of Sun 42–44; Suumna incarnation 45
Āditya 15, 19, 40, 60, 136–137
Ādityahdaya 19, 135–137
Āditya Purā
a 22
Agastya, Sage 19, 21, 135–136
Agni Purā
a 20, 22
ahi
(non-violence) 5, 126–127
alpha–omega principle 29–30
Amarakośa 56
Amar Chitra Katha 75
ancestor worship (śrāddha pūjā) 88
añjali mudrā 75
anti-gods (asuras) 75
Arjuna 19, 27, 73, 83, 100, 134–135
Arua (Sun’s charioteer), story of 21, 61
asceticism, ideology of 5, 70, 122
aśvagandha (Āyurvedic herb) 97n8
Aśvini constellation 80, 90, 92–94, 97n8
Aśvin twins (Nasatya and Dasra) 49, 79–80, 87; akhyāna hymns depicting the birthing of 92;
appointment as celestial physicians 64; birth of 15, 48, 70, 90
Atharva Veda 15, 21, 40
avatāra, of Vishnu 17, 137–139, 141
Bailey, Greg 6, 124–125
a’s Caṇḍī-Śataka 7
Bhagavad-Gītā (BhG) 7, 26, 138; alpha–omega principle 29; alpha principle 29; Kṛṣṇa’s responses
to Arjuna’s questions 100; plane of dharma 29; plane of Kuru 29
Bhāgavata Purā
a 12, 23
Bhāskararāya 62
Bhavi
ya Purā
a 20, 21, 23
bifurcated Hindu feminine, discourse of 72
Birds, in Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a: avian exposition 115–119; backstory of 120, 121, 122; curse of
Sukṛṣa 121; introduction of 120; karmic antecedent of 121; origin of 122; in section I 121;
Tārkī (bird mother) 121; Vindhya-dwelling 120
blood sacrifice, in context of ritual 111, 115, 126
Book of The Forest, The 18, 131–135
Bowles, Adam 19
Brahmā, Lord 40–41, 53, 58–60, 137; creation of the world 42; hymns in praise of Sun 41–42, 139
brāhmaa-rākasas hybrid 113
Brāhmā
ṇḍ
a Purā
a 101
Brahmanism: ideology of 2; paradoxical allegiance to prav
ttic and niv
ttic religious impulses 6;
Sanskritic Brahmanism 24
B
had Sa
hitā 23
B
hat Jātaka (BJ) 89
B
hat Parāśara Hora (BPH) 89–90, 95
Brown, C. Mackenzie 95
Caṇḍī, Goddess 62; Caṇḍī-Śataka 7, 21; iconography of 20
caste allotments, for planets 97n12
chakravartin (universal emperor), idea of 141
Chandragupta II, King 89
chariot of the Sun 19, 90
Chāyā (a reflection/shadow-form of Sajñā) 34, 46, 63, 70, 82, 86; curse to Yama 34–35, 46, 70–73;
favouritism of three younger siblings 72; hatred of her stepson 70, 72
cosmic cycle (kalpa) 56; of creation and destruction 59, 104
cosmic dissolution (pralaya) 2, 24, 102
Cosmic Man (puru
a uttama) 40
cosmic protection and governance, acts of 58
daityas 42–43, 58
Daka 15, 39, 42, 44, 139
Dama, King 66n5, 112–115, 127, 128n7
dānavas 43, 45, 58
Dattatreya, Sage 124
demonic beings, classes of 43
demons–gods battle 45
Desai, Nileshvari 8, 125
devar
aya
35
devas 43, 58
Devī Māhātmya (DM) 1, 6–9, 12–13, 24, 68, 94–95, 105; chanting of 94; connection with
manvantara discourse of the Mārka
ṇḍ
eya’s Purā
a 8; demon-slaying exploits of 94; destruction
of enemies 138; on essence of Vaiṣṇava avatāra 138; glorification of the Goddess 6; on Goddess
as sovereignty incarnate 61, 64; “heavenly throne” episode 58; imagery of the Sun 61;
manvantara section 85; Nārāyai Stuti 138; parallels with Sūrya Māhātmyas 37; restoration of
earthly sovereignty of King Suratha 64; Sajñā, story of 84; Vaiṣṇava imagery 138
Devī–Mahīa battle 61
Devī Mahīsamardinī 85
dharma 1, 29, 48, 131; dharma-ketre 100; dharmopadghāthāya 50; niv
tti dharma 1–2, 5, 53, 123;
prav
tti dharma see prav
tti dharma
dharmic double helix 6, 132–133
dharmopadghāthāya 50
Dhtarāṣṭhra, King 100
Doniger, Wendy 8, 68–87, 96n1; article dedicated to Sajñā/Sarayū 75; On Hinduism (2014) 83;
Origins of Evil in Hindu Mythology, The (1976) 69, 75; Splitting the Difference 84; theory of
good and the bad mother 70
Draupadī 103, 123, 131, 133
dūradarśana (remote viewing) 100
Durgā Goddess 62, 94; as Devī Mahīsamardinī 85; victory over Mahiāsura 94, 140
Durgā Pūjā 3, 68, 94
Durgā Saptaśatī 94
Durvāsa, Muni 121–122; curse to apsara Vapu 121
Eco, Umberto 25
epics, in Vedic literature: Mahābhārata 17–19; Rāmāya
a 19
fire sacrifice 15, 51
food offerings, in pit
pūjā 113
forest hermits–exiled kings relations 6
Fuller, C.J. 139–140
funeral sacrifices 12, 126
Garu
a Purā
a 20, 23
Garua, story of 20, 22, 61
Gāyatrī hymn 15
gītā see Bhagavad-Gītā (BhG)
Goddess: association with tejas 61–62; Caṇḍī 62; celebration of 139; Devī–Mahīa battle 61; Devī
Mahīsamardinī 85; Durgā 62, 94; feminine Nārāyaa 138; glorification of 6, 95; as Great
Demoness 64; as Great Goddess 64, 68, 93, 138–139; Kālī 61; Lakmī 91; Mahādevī 64;
Mahāsurī 64; mythologies of 8; relation with Sun 59, 61; Venus 91
Goddess and The King, The 1, 5–6
gods (suras) 75; as Kāśyapa’s sons 43
Goldman, Robert 71, 87, 92
Gonda, Jan 20, 89; discourse on māhātmyas 7
Gupta Empire 88
Hariva
śa 65n2, 75–76, 78
Hazra, R.C. 9, 12, 21–24, 99, 124, 126
healing power, of the Sun 15–16
heavenly bodies, movements of 51–52, 90
heaven–Sun relationship: Aditi hymns 42–44; birth of Mārtaṇḍa 44–46
Hindu trimūrti of Vedic gods 137
History of Indian Literature, A 7, 20
Indian astrological mythology 92
Indian Saura cult 23
Indra (chief of the gods) 18–19, 36, 44, 45, 63, 110–111, 115, 121–122, 126, 131, 133–136
interpolations, mechanics of 5, 8–11, 13, 95, 105–106, 109, 119
Islamic invasion of Afghanistan 23
Jaimini 109, 116, 119–120; questioning to Mārkaṇḍeya 100–101, 120; as student of Vyāsa 101
Jaimini Sūtras 100–101
Jambudvīpa, origin of sun worship in 23
Janamejaya 28, 131, 134, 135; sacrifice to exterminate the serpents 101
jyoti
śāstra (classical Indian astrology) 88–91, 90, 93
Kālī, Goddess 61, 63; battle with demons Caṇḍa and Muṇḍa 61
Kāmarūpa Mountains 51
Karandhama, King 89
Kara, story of 4, 18–19, 133–135, 140
Kaśyapa, Sage 39, 42–43, 45, 61
kingship: ideology of 5; Indian discourse of 60; prav
tti dharma and 126; violence of 126
kingship–asceticism dichotomy 5
Krauṣṭuki 9, 13, 38–39, 49, 57, 109, 112, 118
Kṛṣṇa, Lord 17, 28–29, 101; lunar associations of 54; responses to Arjuna’s questions 100
k
atriya 112, 126–127; caste of Sun 95
Lakmī, Goddess 91, 97n6
Lannoy, Richard 141
Lord of the Rings 27
lunar asterisms 90, 92–93
Madālasā, Queen 88, 90, 109–110, 123–124; teachings to Alarka 125
Magi Sun-priests 22–24
Mahābhārata (MBh) 6, 25, 60, 83, 86, 99, 119, 123, 131; abduction of Draupadī 133; Ādi Parvan
101; as allegorical battle of dark and light 17; birth of Dṛṣỵadyumna 26; Cattle Expedition 133;
destruction of Kṛṣṇa’s entire clan 54; Drapadī’s svayamvara 26; Duryodhana–Kara friendship
135; exchange between Draupadī and Satyabhāmā 133; Hiltebeitel notes of Kṛṣṇa in 29; Indian
Saura cult 23; Janamejaya’s sacrifice to exterminate the serpents 101; Kara–Arjuna rivalry 19,
134–135; Kara, story of 18, 133–134; Kuntī’s curse 54; on Magian priests of Iran 23;
mythologization of the Sun in 17–19; Pāṇḍava’s encounter with Mārkaṇḍeya 132–135; Sabhā
Parvan 101; Sāmba, story of 54; Sāvitrī poem of 11; story of Sāmba’s birth 54; on Sun protection
of Yudhiṣṭhira 131–132; tale of the co-wives of Kaśyapa 61
Mahādevī 64
Mahā-Purā
as 19–20; classification of 104
Mahāsurī 64
māhātmyas 63; Gonda’s discourse on 7; literature on 7; of Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a (MkP) 2, 6, 34, 55
Mahāyānist Buddhas 141
Mahiāsura 94, 140
majesty of the Sun 7, 37, 48–49, 79, 95
male and female divine powers 83
Māninī, Queen 49, 52–53, 58
Manu-intervals (manvantaras) 55, 56, 95, 138
Manu Sāvari 1, 13, 46, 81, 84, 95, 140
Manu Vaivasvata (son of Sun God) 1, 34, 46, 48, 76, 81, 140
manvantara 56, 60, 85, 95, 103
Marīci (son of Brahmā) 42
Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a (MkP) 1, 5, 75; account of Manu-intervals (manvantaras) 5556; association
between māhātmyas of 59; attack on worldly engagement 125; avian exposition of 115–119;
backstory of the birds 121; birds in section I of 121; compilation of solar myths in 7–8;
connection between DM and manvantara discourse of 8; Dama, story of 112–115; Devī
Māhātmyas “insertion” into 109; diachronic dissection of 7–14; English translation of 8, 11;
ethos of preservation 5; exposition guide 107108; exposition import of 99–105; expositors of
110; glorification of the Goddess within 95; on greatness of the Sun 38–40; historical strata of 10;
māhātmyas of 2, 6; making sense of 105–127; manvantara section of 55; phalaśruti section of
56; on plight of Pravtti 119–127; polemic against prav
tti religion 124; royal dynasties
(vaśānucarita) of 56; Saura–Śākta symbiosis 68; sections of 8; shadow and light in 82–84; solar
family tree of 36; solar sources of mapping 14–25; story of Sajñā 68; Sun myths of 143–167;
Sūrya Māhātmya section of 139, 148–167; Sūrya–Sajñā–Chāyā epsiode 72, 83, 143–148; on
Vaiṣṇava avatāra 137, 139; Wilson’s summation of quality of 12
Mārkaṇḍeya, Sage 5, 24, 39; austerities to Lord Śiva 102; biography of 6, 127; birth of 44–46;
blessings from Lord Śiva 102; classes of born of Kāśyapa 42–43; description of Northern Kurus
96n4; description of the Sun 39–40; discourses of 101–105; interaction with Yudhiṣṭhira 11;
Jaimini’s questioning to 100–101, 120; Pāṇḍava’s encounter with 132–135; on parallels between
Saura māhātmya and its Śākta counterpart 55; story of Sāvitrī (Patrivratāmāhātmya) 11; Sun’s
power 45, 132–135; teachings of 101; Yudhiṣṭhira’s questioning of 102–103
Matsya Purā
a 20, 99
māyā 84, 87; of Viṣṇu 87
Mayūra 21; Sūrya-Śataka 7, 20–21
Medhas, Sage 9, 57, 86, 109–110, 124, 141
Mitra 15–17, 133
mok
a, boon of 127
moral and social order, preservation of 2
Mkaṇḍu (father of Mārkaṇḍeya) 102
nak
atras 88, 90, 92–94
Nārada, Sage 22, 54, 101, 121, 131
Nārāyai Stuti 138
Nariyanta 112, 128
Narmadā river 81–82
Navaratri Festival 87, 93, 139–140
nibandhakāras 22
niv
tti dharma 1–2, 5, 53, 123–124; austerity of 131; religiosity of 122
o
, utterance of 40
On Hinduism (2014) 83
Origins of Evil in Hindu Mythology, The (1976) 69, 75
Padmapurāa 104
pañcalak
a
as 38, 56, 95
Pañcendra-Upākhyāna 123
ṇḍavas 17–18, 26, 83, 101, 102, 123, 131–135, 140
pan-Indic autumnal festival 94
Parāśara, Sage 89
Pargiter, Eden 7–14, 113, 116
pi
ṇḍ
a cakes 113
Pingree, David 89
pit
pūjā 113
pit
s 126
pratisarga (secondary creation) 56, 95
prav
ttic saura-śākta symbiosis 2
prav
tti dharma 1–2, 25, 34, 50, 53, 123, 139, 141; ethos of 123, 126; function of preservation 5;
glorifications of Goddess and Sun 6; ideology of 2; Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a polemic against 124;
plight of 119–127; of preservation 127; prioritization of 50; royal work of 2; sovereignty, notion
of 126; violence of kingship and 126; work of kings in their homage to the Sun 2, 6
prav
tti-niv
tti interplay 6, 132
preservation, ethos of 84; cosmogonic function of 139; essence of avatāra 137; in Mārka
ṇḍ
eya
Purā
a 5; of mortal beings 64; paragons of 137–141; prav
ttic theme of 127; Sun and 131–137;
supreme power and 61
primordial king, birthing of 61
protective divine force, celebration of 139
Ptolemy 22
Purāas 70; cross-generational assemblage 8; on function of preservation 5; Mahā-Purā
as 19–20;
mythologization of the Sun in 19–25; pañcalak
a
as 56; on relationship between myth and the
ritual 94; as sectarian Brahmanical corruptions 7; study of 2; translation into English 7; Western
Purāic scholarship 7, 11
Purāic marks (pañcalak
a
as), types of 95
Pūrva Mīmā
sā Sūtras 100
an 15, 136
Rājyavardhana, King 49, 52–53, 58–59, 66n5, 88, 112
rak
a
kulasamudbhavān 113
rākakas 43
rak
a-kula-samudbhavān 113
Rāma, Lord 133; battle with Rāvaa 135–136; protected by Sun 135–137; royal duty of vanquishing
his foe 137; worship of Vivasvān 136
Rāmānuja’s Viśiṣṭādvaita philosophy 7, 20
Rāmāya
a: mythologization of the Sun in 17–19; Rāma–Rāvaa battle 135–136; story of Rāma 133;
on Sun protection of Rāma 135–137; Vālmīki Rāmāya
a 19, 135
religious ideologies 119; dissemination of 12
Revanta 93; as Lord of the Guhyakas 49; as son of Sun God 48
Revati constellation 80, 90, 93
g Veda 40, 45, 75, 140; hymns dedicated to Lord Viṣṇu 139; myth of Sarayū and her husband in
71
ritual sacrifice 111; cycles of 127; with human flesh and blood 115
Robber of the Waters 45, 48, 77, 80
Rocher, Ludo 8, 13, 20–23
Rodrigues, Hillary 94
royal dynasties (va
śānucarita), of Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a 38, 5556
Radhvaja 124–126
Ra-vāc, Sage 90
Rudra (Śiva) see Śiva, Lord
Rudradaman, King 90
Rudrasena II, King 89
sacrificial fires, in Vedic religion 15, 85
Śākadvīpa 20, 22–23
Śākta ‘interpolators’ 105
Sāma Veda 35, 40, 100
Sāmba Purā
a 20, 22–25, 55, 135; English translation of 24; Goddess, the Sun and the story of
Sāmba 53–55
Sāmba, story of 22, 53–55; associated with leprosy 55; association with lunar mythology 55; blessing
of Lord Śiva 55
Śamīka, Sage 119
Sajaya (Dhtarāṣṭhra’ advisor/charioteer) 100
Sajñā (wife of Sun) 63; act of self-cloning 72; articulations of 70; birth of Aśvin twins 15, 48, 70,
90; birth of Yama and Yamī 70; Chāyā 34, 46, 70; debunking Doniger on 68–87; dual nature of
74; equine exegesis 87–96; flight from marriage and motherhood 71; as mother of Manu 68;
nasal association 35, 48, 79–81, 88, 93; pacification of her destructive husband 71; practice of
chaste austerities 81; seminal splendour and the transmission of tejas 79–82; sexual coercion of
80–81; structuralist sleight of hand 69–78; Sūrya–Sajñā–Chāyā epsiode 72, 83, 143–148; threat
to her marital fidelity 79; Vedic story of 34–35, 46, 68, 79; ‘wicked stepmother’ motif 74
Sajñā-Chāyā symbolism 72, 84–87
sasāra, bondage of 24, 124
Savara, King 18, 73–74, 83
khya philosophy, doctrines of 101
Sarayū, Goddess 16, 70–71, 75–76, 84–87
sarga (primary creation) 56, 95
Śatapaha Brāhmaa 86
Satyabhāmā 101, 133
satya, vow of 126
Sauradharma upa-Purā
a 21
Sauradharmottara upa-Purā
a 21
Saura Purā
a 22, 55
Saura–Śākta ideological symbiosis 54, 55–65, 68
Saurasamhitā 20
Saurasahitā 21
Saura upa-Purāas 21–22
Sāvari, story of 1, 13, 46, 56, 77, 140–141
Sāvitrī (Patrivratāmāhātmya), story of 11, 133
“sectarian” versus “non-sectarian” spirit 14
semen, symbol for 91
sexual freedom, theme of 80–81
shadow self (chāyā mūrti) 72
sharpness (tejas), of the Sun 34, 79–82
śiva li
ga
102
Śiva, Lord 40, 44, 53, 102, 137, 139; annihilation of Yama 102, 127; blessings to Mārkaṇḍeya 102
Śiva Purā
a 54
Skanda Purā
a 20
Smith, J.Z. 105
solar deities, in Vedic literature 15; grouping of 15
solar family tree, of Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a 36
Solar iconography, foreign influence on 23
Solar icons (mūrtīs), in the Purāas 19
solar kings: exploits of 66n5; genealogy of 112; Rāma, story of 133; succession of 128n5
solar myths: compilation of 7–8; in Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a 7
solar sources, of Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a 14–25; in epics 17–19; in Purāic literature 19–25; in Vedic
literature 14–17
solar symbols, of King and Goddess 139
solar veneration 14; Aryan and non-Aryan 15; connection with Mārkaṇḍeya 132; epic expressions of
17–19; Magian influences on 24; sectarian movement dedicated to 24; Yudhiṣṭhira’s 132
sovereign empowerment, protection of 94
sovereignty, notion of 1, 58–59, 61, 66n5, 95, 126–127, 139–140
Sphujidhvaja’s Yavanajātaka 89
stava 7
stotras 7
Sudāman 51
Sugrīva (vānara) 19, 140
śukra 91; see also Venus (goddess of fertility)
Sukṛṣa, Sage 115, 121–123; admonishment of avian-Indra 126; vow of satya 126; vow to ahi
126
Sun and creation: Brahma hymns the Sun 41–42; greatness of the Sun 40
Sun–earth relationship 49–53; citizens hymn the Sun 49–52; King Rājyavardhana hymns the Sun 52–
53
Sun in Purāic sources: Mahā-Purā
as 19–20; in Minor Saura texts 20–21; Sāmba Purā
a 22–25;
Saura upa-Purā
as 21–22
Sun, mythology of 1, 8; advice to Kara 133–134; an instrument of spiritual purification 17;
beginnings of the zodiac 91; as deity to Vedic religion 14; destructive aspect 20; healing power
15; iconography and chariots 19; known as Āditya 19; katriya caste 95; in Mahābhārata 17–19;
protection of Rāma 135–137; protection of Yudhiṣṭhira 131–132; in Purā
ic sources 19–25; in
Rāmāya
a 19; Saura vratas and rites 19; solar forms of 136; spiritual power 15; as spiritual
symbol of the self 17; synchronic study of 25–31; in Upaniadic literature 17; in Vedic sources
14–17; worship of Sun 16, 18–20; Yama–Sun relationship 19
Sun’s family: majesty of the Sun 48–49; paring down of the Sun 46–47; Viśvakarman hymns 47–48
Sun, splendour of 34–55, 95; Agastya’s glorification of 136; attributes of 136–137; Brahma hymns
on 41–42; Chāyā, story of 34–35; creation of 40–42; earth and 49–53; greatness of 40; heavens
and 42–46; identity as Vivasvat 60; incarnation of 45; majesty of 48–49; in Mārka
ṇḍ
eya Purā
a
38–40; Mārkaṇḍeya’s description of 39–40; paring down of 46–47, 60; Purāic myths of 85;
Sajñā (wife of Sun) and 34–35; seminal splendour and the transmission of tejas 79–82;
Viśvakarman hymns on 47–48
Sun’s tejas, paring down of 35, 59–60
Sun temple 22, 53
Sun worship 16, 18–20; arghya offerings 51; iconography and rituals 20; means of 51; origin of 23;
Sun-priests 22–23; Vedic and Epic religiosity 23; vratas for 20
Suratha, King 58, 140–141; encounter with Sage Medhas 141
Sūrya 15–16, 137; cosmogonic functions of 137; dark secret 134; excessive power in the form of his
tejas 60; śaktis of 86–87; sectarian supremacy of 24; themes to exalt 137
Sūrya Gītā 7, 20
Sūrya Māhātmya (SM) 1, 6–7, 37, 63, 105, 139, 148–167; episode chart 65; in Jan Gonda’s discourse
on māhātmyas 7; on myth of the Sun and his family 7; parallels with Devī Māhātmyas 37; on
prav
ttic saura-śākta symbiosis 2; Rājyavardhana episode 58–59; structure of 38
Sūrya Purā
a 21–22
Sūrya-Śataka 7, 20–21
Sūrya Upani
ad 21
Suumna (incarnation of Sun) 45
svayamvara 26, 88
synchronic study, of Sanskrit Saura and Śākta narratives 25–31; enframement import 27; expositional
import 27; framing import 27; guiding principles of 29–31; inception import 28–29; narrative’s
(intrinsic) framing of 26–29; prompting import 27
tapa
-svādhyāya-nirata 120
tapas 54, 62, 102
Tapatī, story of 3, 18, 34, 36, 46, 73–74, 81–83
Tārkī (bird mother) 121
tejas: assembly of gods derived from 61; association of Goddess with 61–62; atejas (anti-thesis)
96n3; concept of 60; and Indian discourse of kingship 60; transmission of 79–82
tīk
ṣṇ
a 60
Time, concept of 16
Upanishads 70; associated with Atharva Veda 21; Sūrya Upani
ad 21
Vaiśālinī 88
Vaiśapāyana 131, 135
Vaiṣṇava avatāra, essence of 137, 138–139
Vai
ṣṇ
ava Purā
as 137–138
Vaivasvata Manu 35, 138
vaivasvata-manvantara 56, 60
Vālmīki Rāmāya
a 19, 135
va
śa 56, 95
va
śānucarita 56, 95
Vapu, Apsara 121–122
Varāhamihira 22–23, 89, 95
Vasiṣṭha, Sage 74
Vāyu Purā
a 20, 66n6
Vedic religion: ethos of 16; mythologization of the Sun in 14–17
Vedic ritual timing, significance for 93
Vedic sacrifices 137, 139
Venus (goddess of fertility) 89–91
victorious power (vijayā śakti) 94
Vipaścit, story of 10–11
virtues of the Sun 7, 21
Viṣṇu, Lord 15, 17, 40, 53, 137; dedication of g Vedic hymns to 139; incarnation of 104, 137;
māyā of 87; on preservation of life on earth 139; protector of the cosmos 139; purpose of taking
on human form 65; slaying of demons Madhu and Kaiabha 138
Vi
ṣṇ
u Purā
a 22; descriptions of the Sun 20; English translation of 12; on Magian priests of Iran 23
Viśvakarman (divine architect-tinkerer) 35, 65n1; forging of protective weapons for the gods 50;
hymns in praise of Sun 47–48; paring down of the Sun 46–47, 82
Vivasvat (Lord of Rays) 15–16, 46, 49, 79; Sun’s identity as 60
von Simson, Georg 54–55
Vṛṣṇis 54
Vyāsa, Sage 99–101, 120, 123
‘wicked stepmother’ motif 68, 72, 74, 78, 83
Wilson, H.H. 7, 11, 113; Western Purāic scholarship 7, 11
Winternitz, Moriz 8–11, 13, 102
World Sanskrit Conference 2
Yajur Veda 40
Yama 76–77, 133; annihilation by Lord Śiva 102, 127; attempt to kick Chāyā 70; cursed by Chāyā
34–35, 46, 70–73; as king of virtue (dharmarājā) 48; as regent of the departed souls 49; as son of
Sun God 19, 34, 46, 48
Yamunā 34–35, 49, 82
yoga tārā 92
yogic attainment (siddhi) of bilocation 72
yogic meditation 35
Yudhiṣṭhira 11, 18, 101; protected by Sun 131–132; questioning of Mārkaṇḍeya 102–103; solar
veneration 132–133
zodiac: Aries 92; beginnings of 91; zodiacal signs 92–93